Teach First
by Lazarus76
Summary: Its a new semester at JE Fox High School. Except Vice Principal Arthur isn't ready for it...especially for the new free-spirited Art teacher...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur took a gulp of black coffee, and checked his watch. The new semester would begin in precisely half an hour, and as Vice Principal of the J. E. Fox High School, he considered himself woefully unprepared. He hadn't finished his exam analysis or checked the timetable. He swirled the coffee in his cup, wishing that time would stop, or he could invent a few more hours.

"Glad to be back?"

He turned, and found himself face to face with Dom Cobb, Principal. He smiled tiredly.

"Ask me at 3pm," he said, looking into the coffee cup.

"That good already?" Dom walked up to Arthur, and patted him on the shoulder. "Just think - in a few minutes, we'll be meeting new students, looking at familiar faces, meeting new Faculty-"

Arthur blinked. "New Faculty?" His mind began to race. "Whose gone?"

"Nash." Dom shook his head. "I couldn't trust him, Art. Not after the way he tried to pass his work off as the students, due to him being too lazy to get them to reach their deadlines."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Good riddance. So we have a new Art and Design teacher this year?"

"Oh, yes." Cobb nodded, smiling. "We do."

Arthur shrugged. "OK. I take it Eames will be back?"

"Did you not notice that as soon as I hired him to teach Literature and Drama, interest in the subject went up a hundredfold?" Dom was laughing now. "I swear, every girl in the school fantasises about him."

"Wrong," a feminine voice said, and both men turned to see Mallorie Cobb, Head of Modern Foreign Languages walk in. She looked a million dollars, in a fresh linen suit with heels. "Not every girl fantasises about Eames," she scolded her husband. "I'm quite happy to be with the Principal!"

Arthur smiled for the first time that morning. "Oh, I'm sure its not just the girls, Mal. Quite a few boys like him too, I'd wager."

"Arthur!" Cobb was laughing even harder. "Please!"

"Yes, Arthur!" Mal said with mock severity. "Here, have a cookie." She offered him one from the box she was holding, and tutted at the younger man. "You're still as thin as a rake! What were you doing all summer vacation?"

"I went hiking and climbing," he confessed, reaching for a chocolate chip cookie, biting into it. "It was great." He swallowed the mouthful of biscuit. He'd gone nowhere. He'd spent the whole of the summer vacation working, either in the school, or at home.

She wrinkled her nose. "Not my idea of fun." She turned to Dom, who reached over and kissed the top of her head. "Yusuf is here."

"Oh, great," Arthur groaned. Memories of the previous year were bubbling up. Yusuf was Head of Chemistry, an enthusiastic man who encouraged his students to be as experimental as possible. The experiments had wandered into the realms of sedative making, leading to irate parents about why their children were falling asleep in class. Arthur felt a sting of annoyance. As Vice Principal, he felt he had to deal with complaints, aggravations, and irritations over every little thing, leaving Cobb to glide through as everyone's pal. He'd mentioned this to Cobb once, and remembered him being told that "without you, Arthur, this school wouldn't run. You make it seamless."

"Yeah, but everyone thinks I'm a humourless, boring, stick in the mud. And thats just the Faculty!" He'd felt his face growing hot as he protested. "You should hear what the students say about me!"

"Yes, Arthur," Cobb said, with a straight face. "Very interesting things they say about you! Some of the girls want to propose marriage, trust me!"

Arthur glowered and stormed out. As he'd left, he'd barked at a couple of male students who were loitering in the corridor. He was sure he'd heard "prick!" muttered by one of them as he'd turned and walked.

Straightening his shoulders, he turned to leave. A new Faculty member - he would be in charge of helping them settle in. Time to play nursemaid, he thought, grudgingly. Time he couldn't spare to waste, when he had reports to monitor, data to crunch, and students to deal with-

"Cheer up, miseryguts, its already happened!"

Arthur stopped. Eames. His eyes swept over the older man, who was more substantially built than Arthur, and wearing clothes that caused the Vice Principal to baulk in horror.

"What," Arthur said slowly, pointing to Eames' chest, "is that?"

Eames looked down, puzzled. "Its my shirt, darling. What's wrong with it?"

"Eames. Its orange."

The Drama teacher shrugged. "Very observant of you. Its also clean, which for me is a rarity...sometimes. Now, can I go to my classroom? I haven't been down there since May, and I'm sure all my books have disap-"

Arthur stood up straight, flaring his nostrils a little. When he spoke, his voice was clipped.

"Eames. You know that Fox High has standards." He spoke with cool authority, noting how the British man appeared to shrink under his gaze. "You are not wearing a tie. Your shirt is not appropriate, and I must ask you to-"

He stopped. A peculiar wild sound had escaped from Eames. He started to redden with anger as he realised the Head of Drama was trying to stifle a squeal of laughter.

"Oh, Artie!" Eames burst out, tears of mirth in his eyes. "Oh, I forgot how much I love you! You walk around pretending to be this joyless, authoritarian killjoy...and then you try and impose it, and its just too funny for words!" He choked slightly, and put his hand on his side.

Arthur went scarlet. He opened his mouth again.

"Eames. I am the vice-principal. Please resp-"

"Respect your authority?" Eames was laughing even harder now. "Oh, dear, have you been watching _South Park_ again? No, its probably on past your bedtime! See you at the Faculty meeting!" Grinning broadly, the older man swaggered down the corridor, winking at a couple of the female math teachers as he passed. Arthur could almost hear them cooing after the man. As they approached him, their expressions froze. When they passed, he heard them stifling their giggles.

He marched on. Passing the science labs, he saw Yusuf, his head in a cupboard. Not even bothering to say hello, he walked on. He checked his watch. Nearly time for the Faculty meeting. And the students would arrive thirty minutes later.

He swallowed, and pulled at his collar. It was a warm day, and the three piece suit he was wearing suddenly felt heavy. He continued to walk...only for his irritation to flare up as he saw someone in the corridor.

He blinked. She was wearing an outfit that looked as if it had been composed of the first few things she'd picked off the floor. A red denim jacket. Faded jeans. A loose fitting top. A neck scarf. She was wandering the corridor, holding a canvas bag, and looking confused.

_Oh, God, _Arthur thought, angrily. Another student who had arrived too early. He walked over, prepared to give her a dressing down.

"You!" he snapped.

She jumped. "Me?"

"Why are you in the hallways?" He glared at her. "Students aren't supposed to arrive until half nine!"

"But, I did-" She blinked. "I was told to arrive at this time! I have to see someone!"

"No, you don't!" he informed her, coldly. "Stop answering me back!" He couldn't believe it. Every year, they tried to sneak in early, and every year, it was the same tired old excuses. He looked at her, witheringly.

"Just turn, and leave."

"OK, I will," she snapped. "You can explain to the Vice Principal why I'm late!"

Arthur's head snapped back. "What?"

"You can explain to the Vice Principal why I'm late!" She pulled a letter out of her pocket, brandishing it at him. "I'm Ariadne Henderson, the new Art and Design Teacher. I'm supposed to meet Arthur Ogilvie, Vice Principal, at 9am!" She looked at him. "So, will you tell him for me? And can you show me the way to his office?"

Arthur opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He swallowed.

"Of course I'll show you, Ms Henderson," he said, hurriedly. "Follow me."

**Reviews always appreciated. Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur stood in the teachers' lounge, trying to look imposing. He noted every other member of staff as they walked in - some with enthusiasm, others as though they were on their way to a funeral. Feeling eyes upon him, he straightened his jacket and vest. Eames winked as he walked past.

"Nice one, Artie," he grinned. "Trying to look serious and proper!"

Arthur found himself reddening again, and inwardly cursed the Head of Drama. "Eames. Being VP is supposed to-"

"Oh, I know, save it-" the other man's attention was caught, and he turned his head. "Hello, sweetness. Now where have you been all my life?"

Arthur bit his lip, frowning as he saw who had caught Eames' attention. Ariadne had walked in, her expression uncertain. She was clutching a large black portfolio, and scanning the room.

"I think I'll make her welcome," Eames said, turning to Arthur with a grin that only the devil could have conjured up. "See you in a bit!"

Arthur opened his mouth. "Eames-" he broke off as Cobb approached. The Principal was wearing a light blue shirt, and dark trousers - no tie. Arthur found himself feeling dull and humourless in comparison to the older man's more informal dress code. As if picking up on this, Cobb turned and frowned slightly at the younger man.

"Relax," he whispered. "Relax!"

Arthur nodded, looking out for other familiar faces. Yusuf had wandered in, looking rumpled. Robert Fischer had also entered. Arthur frowned slightly - Fischer was a thorn in the side of the entire staff. The son of an obscenely wealthy magnate, he'd turned his back on his father's empire and gone into teaching, specialising in business and economics. As he was fond of constantly reminding everyone, he didn't need to work - his monthly allowance was more than enough. He just wanted to show "some independence."

Arthur shook his head, and took a step back, as Cobb stepped forward.

"Welcome back!" he said, his voice easy and natural. "I hope you all had a restful break." He paused, and shuffled the notes he was holding in his hand. "Just one announcement from me. Following the success of upper-classmen psychology last year, specifically the course focusing on the science of dreams, I'm taking on more teaching duties. Which means that the line management of all teaching staff this year will be conducted by my Vice Principal, Arthur Ogilvie. Any problems, concerns - please take them to Arthur."

There was a sudden silence amongst the staff - and Arthur suddenly felt exposed. He turned to Cobb, feeling angry. He knew he was not especially well liked amongst his colleagues - "humourless," "demanding", and "sourpuss" were three of the words he'd heard associated with his name - and the prospect of being responsible for everyone was overwhelming. He noticed Eames was grinning at him, broadly. He scowled, which caused the science department to look at him with surprise.

"And another thing," Dom continued, clearly unaware of his vice principal's discomfort, "we have a new Art and Design Teacher. I'm very pleased to say there is a family connection - Ariadne Henderson studied at the Paris Institute of Art and Architecture, under my father-in-law, Miles DeLoitte. Please make her welcome!"

A rippled broke out, murmurs of approval. "A French speaker!" he heard Mal exclaim. "Oh, that will make life easier!"

Ariadne blushed. "Hi everyone," she said, shyly.

"Welcome to you," Cobb said, smiling. "Any problems, please see Arthur!"

"Er, Dom," Eames called out, "only if they're of a specific nature, such as not enough paintbrushes or too small easels. Any problems that need emotion, Ariadne, come and see me!"

An outburst of shocked laughter greeted this, which was quickly hushed. Arthur felt himself go scarlet, and he glared at Eames. The Forger caught his eye, and smiled, placatingly.

"I just know how busy you are, darling, counting your paperclips!"

To hear the VP referred to in such a disrespectful way caused the staff to break into genuine laughter. Arthur felt a surge of anger and embarrassment. No matter how well he did his job, or how hard he tried, he knew he would never be everyone's pal, like Cobb, or the life and soul of the staff, like Eames. No, he was Arthur Ogilvie, Vice Principal, and that essentially said it all.

He ran a hand over his gelled back hair, and stepped forward. Clearing his throat, he waited for everyone to be calm.

"One of my responsiblities this year," he said, in a voice that sounded more haughty than he intended, "is lesson observation. I will be coming into people's lessons to check on what is being taught, and the progress our students are making."

"Oh, damn," he heard Eames say, "does this mean we actually have to teach them something?"

Another ripple of laughter greeted this, and Arthur could feel himself growing angrier by the second. Cobb shot him a placating look, but the vice principal was too fired up. He stepped forward, again.

"Forgive me for wanting our students to get results," he snapped. "Know what they are Eames? They're the grades they get."

Eames smiled, broadly. "Your condescension, as ever, is much appreciated Arthur, thank you!"

Yusuf shot Eames a look. "Eames."

Arthur felt his ego deflating at a rapid rate. The Head of Drama was making fun of him, and it was left to the Head of Chemistry to intervene. He glared at Eames.

"Oh, put me in detention, Arthur," Eames said, breezily. "You know you want to!"

Arthur had heard enough. Feeling goaded, and angry, he turned and walked out of the lounge, straight to his office. He could still hear the laughter ringing in his ears. Going straight to the water cooler, he poured himself a glass of water, and gulped it down, trying to cool himself.

"Hey!" Mal hurried in, her face slightly distressed. "Arthur, please don't get upset. You know what Eames is like!"

Arthur glared. "I do." He took another gulp. "I'm the Vice Principal, for God's sake!"

Mal smiled, gently. "Maybe if you weren't so hung up-" she broke off. A soft knock at the door interrupted her, and they both turned. Ariadne stood in the doorway, hesitantly.

Arthur looked at her. "Yes?" he winced as he heard his voice - it was more snappy than he'd intended. He put the cup down, and rubbed his forehead. "Can I help you?"

She looked at him. "Um...I'm supposed to be meeting you. It says so on my-"

"Oh, don't worry, Artie!" Before Arthur could speak, Eames had barged in. He turned to the young woman, smiling at her. "I'm Eames, Head of Drama and Literature. I'll show you to the Art Room - its opposite my room!"

Arthur looked at Eames. "Eames, I'm in char-"

"Arthur's a very busy man," Eames continued, nonchalantly. "He's responsible for making sure we don't waste paper, mark our books, enforce our dress codes. He's very important."

Ariadne looked at the rigid VP, and stifled a giggle. "He is," she said, trying to look serious. She turned to Arthur. "Its ok, Mr Ogilvie. Eames will help me."

Arthur swallowed. "Its Ar-" he began, but too late. Eames had decisively taken Ariadne's arm. Feeling angry and embarrassed, Arthur sat at his desk, and glared at his mountain of paperwork.

**Reviews are always welcome - thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed two asprin and washed them down with water. His head ached, and he rubbed it. _What a day,_ he thought tiredly. Sitting in his leather chair, he idly looked at his desk, the paperwork blurring in front of him.

He'd started with an early morning trip to his doctor. Cobb had suggested it, due to the fact that his Vice-Principal was "looking tired."

"I'm ok," Arthur had said, irritably.

"You're stressed," Cobb had said matter-of-factly.

"I am not stressed!"

"Arthur!"

Arthur gave in. His doctor, a nondescript man in his early 40s, had frowned at him.

"Mr Ogilvie, what is your profession again?"

"I'm a high school VP," Arthur had explained.

The man had frowned again.

"Mr Ogilvie. Your blood pressure is far too high. And-" he paused - "whats that grinding noise?"

Arthur realised he was grinding his teeth. Embarrassed, he stopped abruptly, causing him to bite the inside of his cheek. Wincing, he tried to focus on the doctor.

"Your job," the doctor continued, "is stressful. Very stressful. You really need to learn to relax more. Have you thought about getting a hobby? What do you like doing in your spare time?"

Arthur paused. He enjoyed doing the Sunday Times crossword, and loved a good thick novel...

"When was the last time you went to the movies?" The doctor pressed.

"Um..." Arthur paused. Mal and Cobb had tried to persuade him to see _The Dark Knight_ with them..."nearly three years ago?"

The doctor frowned again. "And how about music?"

Arthur bit his lip. He owned an iPod, but could never remember if he'd actually downloaded anything to it. "Er..."

"Friends?"

Arthur winced. Cobb and Mal...definitely. Yusuf...probably. Eames...he blinked.

"Mr Ogilvie." The doctor reached for his prescription pad. "I'm going to make a prescription for you."

"What is it?" Arthur asked, feeling nervous.

"Life!" The doctor boomed. "Go out, meet people, stop making your job the centre of your world! You'll feel less stressed, Mr Ogilvie, I'm sure!"

Gritting his teeth, Arthur got up and left.

* * *

><p>The phone rang. Startled, he reached for it, trying not to knock his double shot soy latte over in the process.<p>

"Hello, Arthur?"

"Eames?" Arthur frowned, and checked his watch. It was after eight am. "Where are you?"

"Um, I'm sick."

"Sick?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, sick?"

"Well, I'm coming down with something," said the suspiciously healthy sounding voice on the end of the phone.

Arthur swallowed. "Eames. It is the second week of semester. You cannot tell me you are-"

"Artie!" The voice sounded wounded. "Artie, have I ever lied to you?" A feeble coughing came from the phone. Arthur scowled at the receiver.

"OK, Eames, you're sick." Arthur tried to marshall his thoughts. "Its too late to call in a substitute, so-"

"You can teach my classes," Eames said, silkily. "Please Artie, you'll be great."

"Eames, I'm a music teacher, not a drama teacher!" Arthur bit his lip. He hadn't taught for nearly three years, since he got the post of VP and more admin work had been loaded onto him.

"But...its all about performing, Artie! You'll be fine! Got to go, think I'm going to be sick!" The phone hung up, and Arthur slammed the receiver into the cradle. Cobb walked in, smiling.

"You ok?"

"Eames is sick," Arthur said, sullenly.

"Oh," Cobb raised an eyebrow. "Oh dear." He looked as if he were trying not to laugh. "I'm impressed it took him this long-"

"Cobb, this can't continue!" Arthur burst out. "He's not sick - he's just taking time off because he's hung over and probably picked someone up last night!"

Cobb nodded. "Indeed."

"He shouldn't be here," Arthur glared. "He has no...commitment."

"But he's the best Drama teacher we've ever had."

"He's also lazy, and sloppy, and flirts with everything female," Arthur complained.

Cobb raised an eyebrow. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Ariadne, would it?"

"What?"

"Well..." Cobb swallowed. "Its just she's off sick too." Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "So..." he looked hurriedly at his notes. "I have a meeting with the District. So, would you mind covering Eames' sophomore Drama and Ariadne's Freshman Art class this morning? Thanks, Arthur, I know I can rely on you!"

Cobb hurried out, leaving the Vice Principal to look after him in anger and dismay.

"Ariadne and Eames," he muttered, slamming his coffee cup down on the desk. "You deserve each other!"

**Reviews always appreciated. Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you.**

Eames put the phone back in its cradle, and smiled contentedly.

"Did you hear that, Princess?" he commented to the small lump lying next to him. "Day off! Artie will cover me, he's a good lad."

"Mmmm..." was the response.

"You called in as well, didn't you?" He said, stroking her side. "Excellent. No work, and lots of play today!"

* * *

><p>Arthur growled in his throat as he stalked to Eames' drama studio. On the way, he barked at a Freshman for loitering and two Juniors, male and female, who emerged giggling and red-faced from the girls' bathroom. He stopped, stunned.<p>

"Come here!" he snapped.

Reluctantly, they turned and faced him. "Yes?" the boy said innocently. She was flushed, and her hair was tousled.

He frowned. "What's going on?"

The boy smirked, insolently. "Sex ed. Practical version." He looked at Arthur, challengingly. "Did you ever learn about it?"

The girl giggled, in shock, and Arthur's jaw sagged. He couldn't believe the teenager's insolence.

"You should be in a class," he snapped, trying to regain his composure. He reached in his pocket and fished out a little yellow notepad. "Detention slips."

The boy blinked. "What?"

"Rudeness and lateness." Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Plus I'll be calling your parents." He tore the slips off the top, and handed them to the two teenagers. "Now, get to class! Now!"

They shuffled over, darting looks over their shoulders. Trying to calm his breathing, Arthur walked to the drama studio. As he pushed the door open, his heart sank. Twenty two sophomores sat there, waiting expectantly. As they realised it was Arthur entering, their faces fell. He could almost feel the resentment directed at him.

_Its because you're not Eames, _he told himself as he walked to the front. _You're not funny, or British, or flirt with everything going._

He walked to the desk, and frowned. No lesson plan. Eames never planned - "I just improvise darling," he'd told Arthur, when he'd tried to point out the folly of this. "Its called acting!"

Arthur cleared his throat and turned to the class. "Right. Now. Mr Eames is not here today so-"

A small groan erupted. Arthur let it roll over him, then faced the students again.

"Mr Eames is not here today, so-" he thought, frantically. "What play are you working on?"

"_Hamlet_", one boy informed him. "Eames said we could rehearse it today."

"Its Mr. Eames." Arthur glared.

"No, he says to just call him Eames," the boy insisted. "He says titles are for people who are stuffy and boring. Like Mr Og-" A sharp nudge from the girl sitting next to him reminded him who he was talking to, and he went scarlet. Arthur was livid.

"Enough!" Arthur snapped, vowing he would deal with Eames' lack of professionalism when he finally came back to work. "Get out your copies of _Hamlet!_"

A silent hour followed, the students reading intently whilst Arthur prowled the room. He was furious with Eames, and also Ariadne.

"This is boring!" he heard one student whisper.

"What do you expect, its Ogilvie!" Another responded.

Arthur was left speechless. Unable to think of anything cutting to say, he instead directed his anger at Eames.

"So unprofessional!" he ranted, internally. "Taking the day off, just to-"

His thought were interrupted by the bell. As the students scuttled out, he tried to collect his thoughts. Checking his watch, he realised he had Ariadne's Freshman art class that afternoon. Suddenly, he had a thought. Turning, he ran to his office. On the way, he bumped into Cobb.

"You ok?" the Principal asked, smiling.

"I'd be better if staff weren't taking days off to play hookey together," he answered, sourly. Cobb blinked in astonishment.

"Art? You mean Eames and-" he shook his head. "You're getting really suspicious in your old age, you know that?"

Chuckling, he turned and walked down the corridor. Arthur, furious, stared after him. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, he had pulled up in front of Ariadne's apartment block. Swallowing, he got out, carefully locking the car door behind him. As he rode the elevator up, he bit his lip.<p>

He knew Cobb would be furious with him - he would consider it an invasion of staff privacy, and Arthur going too far in his suspicions. But he was sure. Ariadne and Eames...enjoying a day off together...he pressed the doorbell, rehearsing all the things he would say.

"One minute!" he heard a female voice. He frowned. He licked his lip, and as the door opened, opened his mouth.

"Aria-"

He stopped. Her face was pale, and her eyes bloodshot. She looked exhausted, and he could see a sheen of perspiration on her forehead. She was wearing pyjamas, with a white bathrobe, and as she took in the immaculate Vice Principal, her eyes widened in shock.

"Mr Ogilvie!" she spluttered, turning as it developed into a hacking cough. "You-"

"Ariadne, its Arthur," he said, suddenly feeling ashamed and embarrassed. "You look really sick!"

"I haven't slept," she confessed, blinking. "I keep coughing."

"Go inside," Arthur said, firmly, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. "Now."

She did so. He followed her. The apartment was small, and cluttered. He looked at her. "Do you have anything?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine." She coughed again. "But thank you for coming to see me. Dom did say you were a very caring guy!"

Arthur, feeling sick to his stomach with mortification, nodded, mumbled, and turned to hurry out the door. As he walked down the stairs, he leaned on the railing.

_Arthur Ogilvie, _he told himself, _You are a pathetic excuse of a human being!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Discliamer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur sighed, tiredly, and looked at the clock. 6.30am. Time to get up, get dressed, and face another day in school.

He groaned, and rubbed his face. Ariadne would be back today - and no doubt it would be around the teacher's lounge by 10am at how the Vice Principal had gone to her house. _Sneaking around, _they'd say. _Typical Arthur! Always trying to catch you out!_

He sniffed. Why couldn't people understand his perspective? He was the VP - not their friend. He was there to assist in leading, mentoring, helping the school become the best that it could. And all he got was grief.

The phone bleeped. He blinked, and picked it up, frowning. Eames.

_See you today!_

Arthur scowled, and snapped the phone shut. Eames. Eames was one of the popular guys - everyone's friend, and everyone's date. He remembered a conversation he'd had with Cobb, when he'd been complaining about how the Englishman had failed to submit his data on time.

"Oh, come on," Cobb had said, soothingly, "He gets the best results in school You know that!"

"But he doesn't play by the rules," Arthur had almost growled. He'd felt his face flush with anger and embarrassment - wasn't Cobb going to try and see his point of view?

"Art," Cobb had said, smiling. "Give him a chance. I know he's eccentric, and flirtatious, and doesn't dress appropriately most of the time, but he's got a heart of gold. If he hadn't, he wouldn't be here."

Arthur felt himself getting aggravated. "And what have I got a heart of? Rock?"

His outburst had taken Cobb by surprise. The Principal blinked. "Listen, I've got to run. We'll talk later, ok?"

Arthur nodded, feeling angry. Turning, he slammed a file down on the desk.

He blinked, shaking his head to clear it, and looked at the clock. Jumping up, he headed for the shower, grumbling under his breath.

* * *

><p>"Morning!" Cobb greeted him, smiling. "Something for you on the desk!"<p>

Arthur blinked. A muffin. With a cup of coffee. He looked at Cobb. "You...?"

"Mal," Cobb said with a laugh. "Honestly, Art, she worries about you!"

"Well," Arthur said, looking at the muffin. "I did miss breakfast..."

Cobb shook his head. "You'll be sliding under the doors soon," he said, scoldingly. "Honestly, Art, I need you to stay healthy! How could I cope with this place on my own?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows, grabbed the muffin, and nibbled it. "You'd be fine."

Cobb grinned. "If you say so-"

"Oh, there you both are!"

Arthur looked up, and frowned. Eames was in the doorway. He looked slightly dishevelled.

"Where were you yesterday?" Arthur demanded, his authorative tone undercut by the mouthful of muffin.

Eames looked taken aback. "I was sick, Artie. Very sick."

"Really?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. He eyed the Drama specialist suspicously. "You don't look ill."

"Well, thats' because I'm better!" Eames retorted, a flush starting to rise to his cheeks. "You should calm down Arthur! You don't eat properly, you get stressed easily - you'll end up with a nervous breakdown at this rate!"

"What a surprise!" Arthur almost shouted. "What a surprise that would be! I've got teachers who go sick at every opportunity, and a Principal who dumps more and more work onto me! I'm sick and tired of everyone leaning on me!"

Eames blinked, astonished. Arthur flushed and turned away. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Oh, Artie," Eames said, soothingly. "Its allright, really, you're just-"

Suddenly, a soft knock was heard at the door. Both men turned. Ariadne stood in the doorway, looking uncertain. Arthur blushed, and Eames caught the look.

"Hi, I can come back if you-"

"Oh, no, its fine," Arthur said, hastily. "Eames was just leaving."

"Oh, yes," Eames said, quickly. "I mean, talking to you about reports is fascinating, Arthur, but I've got to go!" Turning, he hurried out of the door.

Arthur looked at the Art teacher. "Sorry about that."

"No, I wanted to say thank you," she said, quickly. "It was so sweet of you to come by and see if I was ok!" She laughed. "I did wonder if you were coming by to see if I was really sick, but I thought, no, he can't be that devious!"

She laughed, and so did Arthur - with an embarrassed edge to it.

"I mean, I hear how you're really uptight," she said, looking slightly ashamed, "but, well..."

Arthur blinked. _Make a move!_ his inner voice started screaming at him.

"Oh, I'm not really, uptight," he blustered, "just-"

Suddenly, Eames came crashing back in through the door.

"Oops, sorry!"

Arthur went scarlet. "Eames!"

"Listen, I have to go," Ariadne said, hurriedly. "Homeroom."

Arthur watched as she left. Eames turned to him, grinning wickedly.

"You went to her house!"

"Eames..." Arthur's voice held a warning note.

"You didn't think she was sick!" Eames' face was practically splitting in half. "Arthur! You don't trust your employees!"

"I thought she was with you!" Arthur burst out. He looked at Eames' face, which was starting to look astonished.

"You thought she was-" Eames blinked. "Artie, she's lovely, very sweet, but I prefer a woman who doesn't expect me to try and hold an intelligent conversation with her."

Arthur blinked. "Oh, but you-"

"Artie!" Eames was grinning again. "You've got a crush!"

"Maybe!" Arthur mumbled. "Now, Eames, I have paperwork to-"

"Arthur, the paperwork can wait!" Eames looked serious. "You have a crush! And you need my help!"

Arthur's face paled. "I - what?"

"I'm serious!" Eames protested. He looked at the younger man, critically. "When was the last time you went on a date? When was the last time you had a woman who made you feel special? When was the last time a woman brought you muffins - aside from Mal?"

Arthur swallowed. "Well, I-"

"See, you need my help, Artie," Eames said, slinging a companiable arm around the younger man's shoulders. "And - you won't mention to Cobb I pulled a sickie yesterday, will you?"

**All reviews appreciated. Thank you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

"So, why do you want my help again?"

"Because you're good at it."

"I am?"

"Yes, you are. You're always claming you're good at it, so-"

Eames lowered his mocha, and peered at Arthur. "If I'm as good as pulling women as you claim, Artie, why am I spending quite a few nights at home lately with a bottle of Soave, a packet of frozen lasagne, and whatever I can find on the telly?" He conveniently decided to omit mentioning the young woman he'd met a couple of nights previously. He smiled to himself, treasuring the memory. Real gentlemen, Eames was convinced, didn't brag.

He leaned back in his seat. Arthur had asked if he would grab a cup of coffee with him after work, and the older man had agreed. He'd noticed that Arthur had been walking around all day, looking as though he were trying to smile. Frankly, Eames thought he was grinning in a way a vampire would if it noticed lunch, but decided not to mention that. He stretched, facing the younger man, and waited.

"Maybe you've just exhausted the local women?" Arthur jibed. He stopped, slightly shocked at what he'd said. He began to flush as Eames started to grin.

"Won't stop me," the Drama specialist said, pulling a cigarette out of a packet. "For example..."

Arthur turned to where he was looking. A young woman was standing at the counter, handbag slung over her shoulder, and holding a paperback. She was dressed in a black business suit, and waiting for her coffee. Eames began to smile.

"I bet..." he mumbled, "that I can get her interested in three minutes. Five dollars?"

Arthur's jaw began to drop slightly. "Eames, thats-"

The older man was already turning away. "Excuse me!" his voice was bright, upbeat. She turned to look in his direction. "Yes?"

Eames began to smile, a flirtatious one. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I've got a bet with my friend-" he jerked his thumb in Arthur's direction.

"Oh yes?" She was beginning to grin. Her smile, Arthur noticed, was lighting up her face, transforming her from attractive to very.

"Oh yes," Eames said, breezily, "its five dollars that you'll go out on a date with me. Shall I pick you up at 8?"

Arthur's jaw nearly slammed onto the table top. He couldn't believe Eames' audacity. The young woman cocked an eyebrow.

"Five dollars? Is that all?" She winked. "You couldn't afford me!" Picking up her latte, she turned and walked to the other end of the coffee shop. Eames leaned back in his seat, grinning. "See you at 8!" he called after her.

Arthur shook his head. "I don't believe you!"

Eames shrugged. "It works, Artie. It does, trust me! A bit of cheek, and a bit of humour, and they lap it up!" He turned round again, smiling. She caught his eye, and looked up. She winked. Eames blew her a kiss, and Arthur watched open mouthed as she got up, and dropped a napkin on the table. Eames smiled, victoriously. She turned and gathered her things, and left. Eames held the napkin aloft, a trophy won.

"Her number?" Arthur asked, shell shocked.

"Yes," Eames said, grinning again. He looked at it. "I will give her a call. Very, very soon. But first-"

"First, how do I-"

"Convince Ariadne to go out with you?" Eames propped his chin in his hand. "Simple. You have to persuade her you're not this staid, humourless, stern, authoritarian misery guts that everyone thinks you are." He stopped and picked up his mocha, hiding his grin as Arthur went a dull shade of crimson.

"They don't all see me like that, do they?" he mumbled, feeling upset. "Its just my job-"

"I know it is, Artie," Eames said, soothingly. "But, you have to admit, you don't make the greatest impression-"

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"Well, the three piece suits, the hair gel - you should let go a little!" Eames took a sip of mocha. "Look at how Dom dresses!"

"Yes, and look at how you dress," Arthur snapped.

"Oh, temper, temper!" Eames' eyebrows shot up. "Come on, maybe be a little more...casual?"

Arthur stared into his cappuccino. "Maybe..."

"And stop looking for trouble round every corner?"

Arthur sighed, and licked his spoon. "Maybe."

"And perhaps lighten up in our dreadfully boring staff meetings - oh, I'm sorry, pet, I know you plan them - but maybe inject some humour now and again?"

Arthur sighed. "Maybe."

Eames began to grin. "Definitely, Arthur! Prove you're not the humourless tyrant we all fear! Now, another thing - can you arrange to cover me tomorrow?"

**All reviews appreciated, thank you! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Inception does not belong to me. **

The alarm went off. Groaning, Arthur slapped his hand on it, and rolled over. Another day beckoned.

He rubbed his forehead. He felt...hungover. Coffee with Eames had led to going to a bar, in which Eames had bought beers for them both.

"Eames, I don't drink on a wo-"

"Oh, live a little, Artie!"

He had. One pint had turned into two, and then a third. Finally, he was "loosening up," as Eames put it, and the two were in a booth at a dark corner of the bar, Eames listening attentively as Arthur sipped beer and begin to talk.

"I mean, she's lovely," he enthused, not noticing how the Drama teacher was grinning slyly. "She's got lovely fair skin, long dark hair..."

"Mmmm," Eames responded, picking up his glass.

"And...I think she might like me! I went over when she was sick..."

"Mmmm," Eames nodded again. "You've told me. Five times, to be precise."

"I like her..."

"I noticed..."

"I really like her..."

"I noticed that as well..."

"I really, really like her..."

"I noticed you're quite drunk now..."

"Eames?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"I think I'm a bit drunk."

"I think so too. Come on, time for bed, said Zebedee!"

"Whose zebedee?"

"Character from the Magic Roundabout. Fine British telly, Artie. Come on!"

"Umm, I need to finish..."

"No, you don't."

And that was all Arthur remembered, although he did vaguely recollect Eames unlocking his apartment door, and throwing him on his bed. He blinked. He'd been sober enough to get undressed, and under the covers.

He groaned slightly. Standing up, he walked to the shower.

* * *

><p>Arthur arrived at school. Swallowing, he checked his reflection in his rearview mirror.<p>

He had remembered what Eames had said, to take a slightly more casual approach at work. As a result, he was wearing black trousers, and a white shirt, but no tie. He'd unbuttoned the shirt to the second button, exposing his throat. He'd even gone a little easier on the hair gel, resulting in his hair being slightly looser, almost floppy.

He smiled at his reflection.

"Remember, Arthur," he told himself sternly, "relax."

* * *

><p>Arthur walked into the school building, trying to ignore the double takes at his more relaxed appearance. His PA, Mark (Cobb insisted on equal opprtunities, and the only male candidate had proven to have the best typing speed and attention to detail in note taking at the interview) blinked when he saw him.<p>

"Um, Mr Ogilvie?"

"Yes?"

"Did you forget your tie?"

Arthur flushed. "No," he said sharply, "I didn't. And by the way, why is my data on the twelth grade summer results not fully written up yet?"

The PA went red. "Oh, of course, I'm sorry, I'll get onto it right away."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you." He walked into his office, and hadn't even sat down when Cobb walked in.

"Arthur, can you-" Cobb blinked. "Well."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "Well what?"

"Nothing." Cobb looked at him. "Did you realise that you've forgotten to comb your hair this morning?"

Arthur blinked. Strands of hair were falling into his eyes. He smoothed them back. "Yes, of course I did," he huffed.

"That's fine then." Cobb smiled. "I need you to observe Ariadne."

"Observe Ariadne?" Arthur almost choked.

"Yes. Observe her teaching." Cobb looked at him. "Arthur, are you sure you're ok? You seem very-"

"What?"

"Distracted," Cobb finished. "No, I just want you to observe her teach. Interacting with the students. Is that ok?"

"Yes." Arthur stood up. "Its - perfectly ok."

"Good. Knew I could rely on you." Cobb swanned out, leaving Arthur to forage in his filing cabinet for a lesson observation plan, and hurry to Ariadne's art room. As he approached, he could hear her voice.

"OK, everyone, take your seats." Her voice was lilting, musical, as she ushered tenth graders to their places. He swallowed, and stood in the doorway. Several eyes turned to look at him, and he began to feel somewhat self-conscious.

"Wow, is that Ogilvie?" he heard one boy whisper. He blushed slightly.

"Yeah...he looks pretty...hot!" the girl he was sitting next to said. Arthur blushed even more, and tried to walk, unobtrusively, to a seat at the back. As he did so, he neglected to notice a folded art easel leaning against the wall, and tripped. Before he could stop himself, he fell, crashing onto his knees, his notes and clipboard flying out of his hand.

The whole class held its breath. Then, as if on cue, they burst out laughing. The sight of the Vice Principal tripping was too much. Ariadne, shocked, hurried over.

"Oh my god, I 'm so sorry!" She flustered, as the class roared. "It was entirely my fault, I should have checked that easel!"

"Hey, Ms Henderson!" A rude voice hollered. "Maybe you should offer to kiss his knees better!"

Arthur, his face flaming red, ignored her outstretched hand, grabbed the clipboard, and hurried out of the room. He'd never felt more embarrassed or humiliated in his life.

**Reviews always appreciated. Thank you!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur marched along the corridor, furious and embarrassed. He could hear the ringing, jeering tones of the class, and immediately promised he would write up every single one of them. They were rude, insolent-

"Arthur!"

He stopped. Ariadne was coming out of the Art room. Her face was flushed, and she was clearly upset. She hurried after him. "Arthur, wait!"

He frowned. Too familiar. He turned to her, mustering all the dignity he could. "What is it, Ms Henderson?"

She flinched at the formality of his tone. "Arthur - Mr Ogilvie - please, come back inside!"

"Why they're all laughing at me?" he said, sourly. He suddenly realised he sounded like one of the students, and reddened.

She looked at him, slightly exasperated.

"Arthur. They're teenagers. They find things like that funny!" She looked at him. "They don't mean anything by it!"

"But-" he swallowed. He realised he was beginning to sound petty, and blushed. She looked at him, and smiled, placatingly.

"Come on," she said, quietly. "They will think more of you if you go back in."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Your feeling embarrassed, and if you keep running, you'll never be able to pass one of those kids again without feeling it!" There was a steely edge to her voice. "Arthur, please, you're the Vice Principal - you have to show them you're bigger than that!"

He went scarlet. She, a rookie art teacher, was lecturing him, a VP with nearly seven years' experience? He glared at her. She merely matched it, which caused his jaw to sag slightly.

"Ms Henderson. I will show them." His tone was clipped. "Please lead the way."

She nodded, a smile ghosting her lips. "Of course."

She re-entered the room. The students had lost focus and were chatting amongst themselves, but they fell silent when they saw the two teachers returning. As they saw Arthur, they lapsed into an awkward silence.

"OK," Ariadne said, in an easy, friendly manner. "Can anyone remind us what we were going to be studying this morning, what our objective is?"

A hand was tentatively raised. "Portraits!"

"Correct!" Ariadne smiled. "Portraits - or silhouettes! What I'm going to be demonstrating is how you have to sketch out an effective profile in order to build a good protrait. And for that, I need a model. Mr Ogilvie, would you please move to the centre?"

There was a sudden shifting amongst the students. Arthur blinked.

"Oh, but I'm here to observe-"

"The best way to observe is to become involved in the lesson," Ariadne insisted. "If you just move to the front here...?"

Arthur got up, hotly aware of the students' eyes upon him. She gestured to a wooden stool.

"If you could sit here, please?"

He did so.

"OK, now, just turn a little."

He swallowed.

"Now, if you look, everyone, you can see Mr Ogilvie's profile."

Arthur blinked. He was hearing murmurs from the students.

"If you notice, he has a very good jawline, and high cheekbones. A good bone structure is wonderful to paint!"

Arthur stiffened. He wasn't used to people being so complimentary. Especially in a work setting. He tried to hold himself erect, and then realised that Ariadne was moving over him. He swallowed - he could smell her perfume, a spicy, woody scent. To his surprise, he liked it. Most of the women he dated wore heavy, expensive scents - this was a light, earthy smell.

"OK, so if we just sketch out here-" she commented, lightly running a pencil over her flip chart. "And another one here-"

Murmurs were beginning to erupt from the class. He wondered what Ariadne was drawing.

"And if you just lightly shade here-" her tone was authorative, and he could tell the class was now hanging on her every word. He swallowed - there was something very attractive about this young woman who had tamed a group of unruly students, and done so without resorting to threats. He blushed, suddenly aware that if thoughts were visible, he would be the laughing stock of the school. He could almost here the crude whispers in the student locker rooms - _"Hey, heard the news? Ogilvie wants to date the new Art teacher! But she's so nice, and he's such a-"_

He shook his head. He heard Ariadne click her tongue.

"Don't move."

He blinked. Was she giving him order? He sat up, prepared to berate her - and then suddenly realised. Him being put in his place was actually pretty -

"So, you need to find a good subject," Ariadne continued, her voice calm. "And you could come up with something like this!"

She turned the picture round, and Arthur heard several appreciative gasps.

He blinked. She'd drawn him - a portrait of him in pencil. The proportions were right, and he looked natural - relaxed, almost happy. He swallowed.

"That is- wonderful," he breathed. "Can I have it for my office?"

She smiled. "Of course!"

Suddenly, he heard whisperings, and nudgings. Ariadne rescued the situation by walking forward and clapping her hands.

"OK!" She said, that steely tone back in her voice. "Find a partner!"

There was a sudden sound of scraping metal, as students moved chairs to partner up. Arthur swallowed, and turned to Ariadne.

"Thank you," he breathed.

She smiled. "Not a problem. They're not so bad, are they?"

Arthur blinked. Suddenly, he felt the warm glow he'd had dissipate. He suddenly fet that she was almost talkng down to him, and he felt unnerved.

"They are." The words came out slightly abruptly, and she blinked. "Listen, I'll see you at lunch, Ms Henderson. I have some paperwork to do."

She nodded, and he could have sworn she looked almost hurt. "OK."

Arthur turned and hurried out. She bit her lip, trying to conceal her upset at the abandoned portrait sitting on the easel.

**Thank you for reading - please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur paced his office. He knew Ariadne had been trying to put him at ease, make him feel that he didn't have to feel uncomfortable. But he did. He didn't like being put in a position where he felt the students would mock and giggle at him.

He sat down, running a hand over his head. His hair felt too loose, too floppy, and he felt as though he were dressing up. Frowning, he reached for his desk drawer. He always kept a spare tie and a tub of hair gel in his desk, for emergencies. Sitting up, he deftly knotted the tie, after buttoning up his shirt. He then reached for his comb, slicked it with gel, and ran it back through his hair. He ran his hand over it. Maybe everyone would think he was uptight, but, he thought, he now felt more comfortable.

There was a tap on the door. He looked up. "Yes?"

Cobb entered. He blinked as he saw Arthur. "Hey...thought you were a little more casual this morning?"

The words were said in a friendly manner, but Arthur scowled. "No. I don't do casual, you should know that." He opened a file on his desk, and pretended to be immersed in it. Cobb frowned, and walking over, shut it.

Arthur looked up. "Excuse me."

"Arthur, what's going on?" Cobb asked. "I'm hearing things, and to be honest, I don't like them."

"Such as?" Arthur felt his irritation flare up. It never ceased to amaze him how Cobb treated him like a minion, when he was meant to be co-running the school.

Cobb frowned. "Well, like you going to Ariadne's class, and then running out of it, and her having to bring you back-"

Arthur felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment. "Who told you?" He felt both defiant and embarrassed.

Cobb bit his lip. "It was one of the students. Listen Arthur, you need to think about the impression is gives. Ariadne is a new, and relatively inexperienced teacher. She needs to feel supported by us, not that the Vice Principal is going to run out on her!"

"I didn't," Arthur said, through gritted teeth. "I tripped over an easel that she's left! What would you do in a situation like that?"

"I'd make a joke out of it!" Cobb said, smiling. "So would Eames! Just to show that you're relaxed, and-"

"Well, I'm not!" Arthur snapped. "I'm not relaxed! I'm the uptight one on this faculty, remember?" He re-opened his file and buried his face in it. Cobb blinked, slightly stunned.

"I'm sorry you feel like that, Arthur," Cobb said, quietly. "I'm going to lunch. Remember, you're always welcome to join us all. You don't have to hide in here."

"I'm not." Arthur's voice was muffled. "I'll be down soon."

"Good." Cobb smiled and left. Arthur stared at the sheets of paper in front of him, watching them dissolve into dancing numbers. He looked at his watch. Half twelve. Lunch did seem a good idea.

* * *

><p>Arthur looked round the cafeteria. Groups of students were sitting at tables, eating their lunches and talking. He swallowed. Cobb had started to insist that the staff eat in the cafeteria, with the students. He wanted to encourage more of a "family feel."<p>

"Bloody dysfunctional family," Eames had muttered. Arthur bought his chicken salad and a yoghurt from one of the servers, who tutted and tried to feed him the lasagne, but he turned and began scanning for somewhere to sit at the staff table. His heart sinking, he realised that there was only one space left, next to Eames.

And opposite Ariadne.

He seated himself. Suddenly, he realised that conversation at the table had dulled. He looked round, puzzled.

"So, as I was saying, tests are a load of bol-Artie!" Eames turned, and grinned. "Got out of your ivory tower to sit with us mere mortals, did you?" He thrust another forkful of overcooked lasagne into his mouth. Arthur swallowed and prepared to eat his salad.

"Arthur," Mal said, pointing her fork at his lunch, "you really need to eat more! My husband relies on you!"

"Yes," Eames said drily. "We need you to make sure we all teach to an acceptable standard!" He winked at Ariadne. "Need you to make sure that we do our job properly!"

"Well, you know what they say, Eames," Arthur said, defensively. "Those who can, can. Those who can't teach. Those who can't teach, become Vice Principals and wander around spoiling everybody's fun."

A sudden silence descended. Arthur, blinking, realised that his attempted joke had fallen flat. He thrust a mouthful of salad into his mouth, trying not to meet anyone's eyes.

Ariadne spoke. "You changed your hair."

He looked up. "I did."

"Art teachers," Eames said, drily, "notice everything."

"Listen," Ariadne said, looking at Arthur tentatively, "The picture...its still in the art room. Come pick it up!"

"I will," Arthur mumbled. He felt hotly conscious of eyes on him.

"A picture?" Eames asked, his eyes glinting. "Of Arthur?"

"Yes," Ariadne nodded. "He posed for me in for my students."

Eames grinned. "Was this in a state of und-"

"Oh, look at the time!" Arthur interrupted. "I have to go!" Grabbing his half eaten salad, he got up, and hurried away from the table. Ariadne looked after him, and shook her head, sadly.

"I'm beginning to think he doesn't like me," she said, looking at her plate. Eames smiled.

"You need to try and get him alone," he said, suggestively.

"Alone?" Ariadne frowned.

"Yes," the drama teacher said. "How about you ask him on a date?"

Aridane looked at Eames. "You know, I'm tired of him running away." Her voice was forceful. "I think I need to!"

"Or maybe..." Eames said, grinning, "Arrange for him to have a detention?"

The Art specialist smiled. "Even better!"

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great, thank you! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Hey, have you got those figures for me yet?"

Mark, Arthur's PA, looked through the open door. "Not yet, boss. Still waiting for the data."

"Fine," Arthur snapped. "I'll use that as an explanation when the Governors start to ask, shall I?"

His PA turned red, and walked out. Arthur swallowed, feeling himself redden. He didn't mean to take it out on his staff, but the paperwork was getting beyond a joke.

Suddenly, the phone rang. He sighed, and picked it up. "Arthur Ogilvie."

"Mr Ogilvie, would you mind coming down to reception?"

"What?" He blinked. Was he expected to do administration's job for them now?

"Mr Ogilvie. I have a parent and a student in reception. Would you please come down?"

Arthur snapped his consent, put the receiver down, and walked downstairs. Students were still milling, having stayed late for extra-curricular activities. Eames' drama club was popular, so was Yusuf's "Fun in Science" class. Cobb was running extra psychology, broadening his theories on dreams. As he walked past the lab, he could see two students stretched out, seemingly asleep, wired up to a graph monitor. He frowned; he would need to talk to Cobb about that.

Arthur entered reception. An older woman was standing, her expression angry. With her was a young man. Whose head was half shaved, had a pierced septum and ear, and was dressed in black leather.

"What seems to be the problem?" Arthur asked, pleasantly.

The mother glared at him. "Apparently, my son should not dress like this in your school!"

Arthur felt his heart sink. Why oh why did Cobb lumber him with situations like this?

"Well," he said, trying to remain calm, "students must present a neat and tidy appearance-"

"It says," she thundered, waving a book of rules in his face, "that they're allowed to wear their own clothing!"

Arthur groaned. "As long as they have a neat and tidy app-"

"Stop repeating that!" she practically screamed at him, causing the reception staff and a few students to look at him. "What are you, a goddamned robot?"

Arthur felt himself bristle. No-one spoke to him like that.

"I'm the Vice Principal," he informed her, "and your son-"

"Oh, yes," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "My son, who you want to turn into a suit wearing robot just like you! Its not going to happen! He's going to another school! Come on, Kevin!"

The woman turned and stormed out, her son following her, throwing Arthur a contemptuous smirk. He felt himself bristle with impotent fury. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the reception area.

* * *

><p>"How do I get Arthur on his own, Eames?"<p>

"Oh, its simple, Princess. Go to his office!"

* * *

><p><em>"Why do you want to be a teacher, Arthur?"<em>

_"Because I believe in helping young people develop to their full potential, and in realising what they're capable of."_

_"How would you define a good teacher, Arthur?"_

_"Patient, fair, compassionate, understanding. Realising that things go on in kids' lives that we may not know about."_

_"Good answer. What makes a bad one?"_

_"Humourless, didactic, and obsessed with finer details, like clothing. Who cares what they were?"_

Arthur rubbed his face. Had that really been seven years ago? Fresh out of his degree, anxious to start his training, and be a music teacher. Now he was that humourless, didactic tyrant, who shouted at his PA, tried to change his image and got laughed at, and didn't get a chance to teach-

He blinked. He was outside the music room. Swallowing, he looked around. No-one was about. Tom, the music teacher, had called in sick, and as a result, the sub had gone home on the bell.

Arthur walked in.

Tom was an excellent teacher, Arthur knew. He had a passion for music, and was just as happy talking about Alice in Chains as he was about Mozart. He and Arthur had struck up a friendship when he'd first started teaching. The new recruit had been delighted to find out that the VP was a music teacher himself.

"We should form a band," Tom had said, grinning.

"No," Arthur said, blushing. "It'll -"

"Ruin your image?"

"Something like that."

Tom shook his head. Arthur had seen a lot less of him after that.

Frowning, he wandered into the music room. Something struck against his foot, and he looked down. A Fender Telecaster. A beautiful bronze one. He noted the lead was still plugged in.

Suddenly, he didn't care about the paperwork, or about the students. He picked up the guitair, lovingly running his fingers along its slender neck. He pulled the strap over his head, and began to gently strum.

* * *

><p>Ariadne pushed the door of Arthur's office open. "Hey, Arthur?"<p>

No response. The room was silent, and his suit jacket was on the back of the chair.

Frowning, she walked away.

* * *

><p><em>"Outside the boxcar waiting,<em>

_Outside the family stew,_

_Out by the fire breathing,_

_Outside we wait 'til face turns blue..."_

* * *

><p>Ariadne wandered down the hallway. Suddenly, she stopped. Was that singing she heard coming from the music room? Turning, she hurried up the corridor.<p>

* * *

><p>Arthur loved this song by the Pixies. He kept playing and singing, not caring if he was overheard.<p>

_"A big, big stone fall and break my crown,_

_there is a wait so long,_

_you'll never wait so long!_

_Here comes your man..."_

Ariadne's jaw dropped. She stood by the side of the door, and watched. Arthur...a guitarist? And a singer?

_"You'll never wait so long!_

_Here comes your man!"_

She couldn't help it. She began to applause. The Vice Principal jumped up as if he'd been bitten, and turned.

"Who, what?" He blinked, flustered. "Ariadne!"

"Hi, Arthur," she said shyly. "You've got a great voice!"

He went scarlet. "Um, well..."

"And you're a good guitarist!"

"I, um..."

"And I don't know about you, but I could really use a jolt," she said, clearly not bothered by Arthur's embarrassment. "Shall we go for coffee?"

**All reviews appreciated, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur looked at Ariadne. His vest and shirt were slightly rumpled, as so was his hair. The telecaster was still hanging from the strap around his neck. Ariadne smiled again, her brown eyes sparkling.

"I, um-"

"Come on!" She said, her voice almost teasing. "Its a cup of coffee. And don't tell me you're too busy, because you're down here!"

Arthur swallowed. Coffee. With Ariadne. Carefully, almost reverently, he began to pull the guitar back over his head, and placed it in the stand. Ariadne tilted her head. Her eyes, he noted, were turning from brown to honey flecked cinnamon.

He blinked. She was a colleague. A colleague asking him to go for a cup of coffee. Nothing more, nothing less. He ran his hand through his hair, and smiled.

"Yes," he said, surprising her that he was agreeing. "Let's."

"Good." She smiled back. "How about the Coffee Bean?"

He nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>The Coffee Bean was a couple of blocks away from the school. Arthur had collected his suit jacket, and the two of them walked over. The late afternoon was crisp, with a strong sun bearing down. Arthur pushed open the door of the coffee shop first.<p>

And froze. Seated in one of the side booths, huddled together over hot chocolates and giggling over something on a cellular phone, were four Twelth graders. All of them in Ariadne's Art class.

Arthur felt his blood turn to ice. He turned to leave, but suddenly realised that something had caught hold of his jacket. Ariadne's hand.

"Where are you going?" she asked, pleasantly.

Arthur swallowed, the words catching in his throat. "Its just-" he took a deep breath. "Students-"

Ariadne turned, not batting an eyelid. "They're not interested in us. They're only interested in themselves!" She looked at Arthur, amusement curling her lips. "Stop being so paranoid! Its the end of the day, we have lives too!"

Hot words rushed to Arthur's lips, ready to retaliate. To point out that if they were spotted together, his credibility would pop like a balloon, and he could almost hear the nudges and whispers. _Hey, that robot Ogilvie has feelings! He's trying to ba-_

"Shall we order?" Ariadne said, oblivious to Arthur's discomfort. He nodded, and followed her to the counter. She stood, perusing the choices. The barista, an attractive young man with a goatee, smiled at her.

"What'll it be?"

"A cinnamon latte, please," she said, pulling a five dollar bill from her wallet as he nodded. She turned. "Arthur?"

"Um, an Americano, please. Black."

She raised her eyebrows. "Sure you don't want something more indulgent?"

He blinked. He tended to stay away from sweets, due to having been a heavy teenager himself. He always felt tremendous sympathy when he saw overweight students being picked on, but couldn't resist from lecturing them about diets and exercise. He took a deep breath. Once wouldn't hurt.

"OK...a vanilla latte, please."

Ariadne smiled, and he paid with his five dollar bill. After their order was ready, they picked them up and walked to one of the secluded booths. Arthur carefully put his spoon in the coffee, trying not to meet Ariadne's eyes. She lifted hers, and took a sip.

"So," he said, trying to think of an opening gambit.

"Yes?" She smiled.

"So...um, what brought you here?" He blinked, and realised that it might be seen as a personal question.

"Pretty simple. I wanted to move back Stateside, and this job looked perfect." She took another sip, leaving a trace of foam on her lips. "Its a High School in a City, the students are nice, and so are the staff. What about you?"

"Um..." Arthur paused. What had brought him to the school? A favour, he suddenly remembered.

His first teaching post had been in another school in the City. A tough intake, with a lot of behavioural issues. He'd found that as a music teacher, he'd been able to connect with the students, and draw out talents they hadn't realised they'd possessed. He'd built relationships. But then the school had been forced to close, due to falling rolls exacerbated by poor management. He'd wondered what he was going to do. Then, suddenly, he'd received a phone call.

_"Hey, Art?"_

_"Yes. Dom? Is that you?"_

_"The very same. I need a - I was wondering-"_

_"What's wrong?"_

_"My music teacher has abandoned me. Can you fill in for two weeks?"_

That had been five years ago. Music teacher, then suddenly, Head of Arts Faculty, and now, Vice Principal. Or, as he sometimes glowered to himself, Professional Mess Clearer.

"Hey, Arthur?"

He blinked again. He looked at Ariadne, blushing slightly. "Sorry," he muttered. He picked up his mug, and took a swallow.

"So, um," he struggled to find another way to converse with her. "Did you always want to be a teacher?"

"Yes!" She laughed. "I did - I thought I could teach, and paint and sketch on the side. You?"

He looked down at the table. "I, uh-"

Suddenly, the door to the Coffee Bean burst open, and in strode Eames. Arthur leaned back and groaned, internally. The Drama Specialist walked straight to the counter, and ordered "a mocha, please, double shot, with a swirl of caramel."

Arthur picked up his mug and glowered into his latte. Ariadne looked at him. "Arthur, do you-"

"Well, what a surprise!" Arthur winced; he'd never realised quite how loud Eames was. "Fancy seeing you two here! Mind if I join you?"

"Well, we-" Arthur suddenly realised that protestations were futile. The British man had seated himself in, firmly. Smiling, he turned to Ariadne.

"So, is Arthur entertaining you?" his tone was flirtatious, and Arthur felt himself grip the handle of his mug, tightly.

"Well, yes-" Ariadne said, looking into her mug.

"Look, I've got to go," Arthur said, hastily draining the rest of his latte. "See you both tomorrow!"

He scooped up his suit jacket, and hurried out. Eames took a sip of his mocha.

"Well," he said, contemplatively. "Was it something I said?"

**All reviews appreciated, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Ariadne unlocked the Art room, looking over her shoulder as she did so. Then she gave herself a shake; Arthur was not going to suddenly come downstairs and start making conversation. Not after the way he'd turned and fled the previous evening.

She couldn't believe it. Arthur gave every impression of being clever, confident, and able to deal with things; but he seemed to get worked up or upset at the slightest thing. He was scared of the students, he was scared of being seen with her, he was scared of Eames. Ariadne was beginning to realise - the outwardly confident VP was scared. And because he didn't want to show it, he retreated, which made everyone think he was cold, and aloof.

She frowned. She'd seen a very different side to Arthur in the music room. One that was caught up in the music, and clearly didn't care what people thought. How could she tap into that?

Lost in thought, she entered the Art room.

* * *

><p>Arthur switched on his Mac, and checked his email. He groaned as he saw that his inbox, empty the previous night, now had 25 new unopened mails stacked up in it. He began to scan, hoping to delete at least half of them. His eyes widened when he saw one of them was from Tom. With a feeling of unease, he clicked it to "open".<p>

_Hi Art,_

_ Bad news. I've got glandular fever. I've been signed off for a month. _

A month? Arthur slumped, immediately calculating how many subs he'd need, and how much it would cost. He then began reading again:

_A problem. Out of my Twelth Graders, six are taking music as a main credit. The only person I know who can teach this class is you. Would you consider this, and discuss it with Cobb? Please? Best wishes, Tom. _

Arthur rubbed his face. Take over a class? Nearly half a semester in? He swallowed. It was a lot to ask, on top of the fact he had to deal with discipline problems, academic attainment, school funding, staffing levels, budgetry constraints -

"Yoo hoo!"

-And Eames. He looked up, glowering, at the Drama Specialist. "Morning," he snapped, turning his face straight back to the computer screen.

"Well," Eames commented. "Sorry I spoke. What's wrong with you?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Are you upset with me after last night?" Eames looked at him, smiling. "I noticed you left in a hurry."

Arthur gritted his teeth. "Eames, you encouraged me to go and spend time with Ariadne. Then you come and interrupt-"

"I was just being friendly!" The British man retorted. "Besides, I thought if I turned up, you would get all macho, and try and get me out?"

"Macho?" Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "Eames, I don't do mach-"

"No, of course you don't, silly me." The Drama specialist looked at him, and grinned. "If its any consolation, after you left, the conversation dried up completely."

"Really."

"Yes. I don't think Ariadne likes me...not as much she likes you." Suddenly, Eames' phone bleeped. "Sorry, need to go. See you later!"

As he left, Dom entered. "Arthur! So glad you're here!"

Arthur looked at him. "Well, what's wrong?"

"Tom." Dom met his Vice Principal's eyes. "You've seen his email, I presume?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I have. And-"

"And I need you to teach them." Dom looked at him. "I know its a lot to ask, but Arthur, I need a music specialist. And you're the only one at such short notice who can do the job."

Arthur's mouth flew open. "But, Dom, I-"

"I'll give some of your administrative duties to Mal," the Principal said, his voice firm. "She can take on student attainment for the time being, freeing you up to do your planning and preparation."

Arthur swallowed. "OK."

Dom smiled, one of relief. "Thanks Arthur, I can always rely on you!"

And with that, he left, leaving Arthur with a feeling of dread.

* * *

><p>Ariadne blinked. She was assisting her Twelth Graders in clearing up after their Fine Art lesson, only to hear a couple of them muttering.<p>

"I can't believe that Sargeant's ill!" She heard one of the boys exclaim. "And who do we have as a replacement? Ogilvie!"

One of the boys snickered. "I doubt he knows what a guitair is!"

"I doubt he even likes music!" The boy, cruelly, began to imitate an uptight, prissy sounding Arthur. "I won't tolerate music in this school! Music is fun, and no-one it allowed to have it!"

Ariadne was shocked. "How dare you!" She snapped. "That's the Vice Principal you're talking about!"

The students looked stunned. "Sorry, Ms Henderson, its just Ogilvie - I mean, Mr Ogilvie - is such an upt-"

"Enough!" She almost snarled. "You're in detention!"

And with that, she swept out of the room, leaving them stunned.

* * *

><p>Arthur paused. He could feel himself perspiring as he approached the music room.<p>

He stepped inside. Eighteen Twelth Graders turned to face him. He swallowed.

"Good morning," he said, pleasantly.

Silence.

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	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur swallowed. The teenagers in the room looked surly, distrustful. An air of hostility was hanging in the air. He moved towards the front of the class, his mind racing. Tom...what would Tom have said?

Suddenly, a voice spoke. "You're not our teacher, right?"

Arthur felt himself bristle slightly. Who did this kid think he was?

"Don't speak to me like that!" He snapped, and felt himself recoil as he did so. The student he'd addressed shrank back slightly, then leaned forward.

"I was asking a question!" he demanded. "Mr Sargeant is not here, and you are! So you must be our teacher! And I don't want you!"

Arthur blinked. When did students think they could speak that way to the Vice Principal? He glared, and could feel the tension in the room beginning to increase.

"Just remember who you're talking to," he said, feeling himself bristle. "I'm the Vice-"

"We know who you are!" A female student sitting at the front, spoke up. "We know you're the Vice Principal! We've all seen you, wandering round the corridors, giving out detention slips! But do you know anything about music? Do you know anything about what we need to learn?"

"I bet you don't!" Another student at the back hollered. "You just spend all day sitting in your fancy office!"

"Yeah, making up new rules to bother people with!"

Arthur blinked. He could feel himself beginning to flush scarlet. Why did he ever agree to the promotion? he thought, bitterly. Being a VP meant added hours and added stress and too much paperwork and not enough time with the students and forgetting what you'd started training to teach for. This was a mug's game, he thought, feeling his general unease increase with the tension in the room. He bit his lip. He was losing control of the situation. The only thing for it was to go to Cobb, tell him he couldn't do it, and get a sub in. That way, he could retreat back to the-

"I bet you don't even like music!"

Arthur blinked. His head turned towards the student who'd blurted out. He was a lean, rangy boy, with long legs stuffed uncomfortably behind the desk. He looked at Arthur, defiance on his face.

"Would you care to repeat that?" Arthur's tone was pleasant. The student blinked.

"I said, I bet you don't even like music!" The teenager shrugged his shoulders. Arthur looked at him, and smiled.

"You're right," he said, softly. "I don't."

A ripple of derisive laughter echoed round the room. Arthur looked at them.

"I don't know anything about music." His voice was soft, but it had a commanding edge to it. "I don't know whether the Pixies' _Surfer Rosa_ is better than _Doolittle; _Whether Trent Reznor is more of a legend than Kurt Cobain; why Metallica are still going; whether the Strokes were the saviours of music; whatever happened to the Smashing Pumpkins and why Courtney Love still thinks she has a career. Yeah, you're right. I know nothing about music. Nothing except about Alternative rock, metal, grunge, indie, oh, and a little bit of classical. Anyone here want to know who would win in a fight between Wagner and Mozart? Or between Tori Amos and PJ Harvey. Or why there are no good white rappers. Don't try and tell me you think Eminem doesn't suck. You want to hear rap music? Listen to _Straight Outta Compton. _That's rap music."

Stunned silence filled the room. Every single student was looking at Arthur. He leaned back, and put one hand on the desk, and smiled. A sudden sigh filled the room as the female students caught sight of his dimples.

"ok," he said, his tone still pleasant. "I think I've established I know nothing about music. Now, how much do you know? And specifically, how much about Faure's _Requiem_, which I believe is your set study piece? Can somebody distribute the manuscripts? Let's look at the interpretation - what have you learned about the tone and dynamics of this piece?"

The students shifted. "Um, we haven't," one commented.

"You haven't?" Arthur's face creased in concern. "OK, what have you learned?"

"Well, Mr Ogilvie-" one of the ruder students blushed as he addressed him by his title - "Mr Sargeant thought it wouldn't show up in our exam-"

"I'm sorry," Arthur interrupted. "Its the set piece." He smiled again. "But we've got time. First, we need to listen to the piece - you have to learn its rhythyms, its structure. Then we can move onto analysing it. Of course, you'll also have to be preparing your own compositions as well."

A hand went up. "Mr Ogilvie?"

"Yes?"

"Can you-" the boy blushed. "Can you compose a piece on the guitair?"

Arthur started to grin. "Of course. If its good enough for Jimmy Page, its good enough for the examiners!"

"Mr Ogilvie?" A female student called out. He turned to her. "Yes?" he spoke kindly, glossing over her rudeness to him earlier. She blushed.

"Can you-" she paused. "Can you play the guitair?"

Arthur shrugged, modestly. "I've been known to dabble..."

**All reviews appreciated and read, thank you!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

"So, at the beginning of the next class, I want you to have your annotations of Requiem, and also to have started thinking of what you want to do with your composition."

The students nodded. After an hour of focused, concentrated hard work, Arthur had them under his spell. He felt himself beginning to relax as they started to leave, several students smiling at him.

"Thanks, Mr Ogilvie!"

He looked up. One female student was lingering. He recognised her as one of the school's designated popular girls. He frowned, slightly. He was not in the habit of fostering overly friendly relations with students.

"Its no trouble," he said, keeping his voice cordial, but firm. "See you at the next lesson."

She nodded, and he could have sworn she looked as though he'd refused her something. She walked out, and he shook his head. _Nothing to worry about, _he told himself.

* * *

><p>Eames' eyes were roving over the Staff lounge. After buying a cup of industrial coffee from the dispensing machine, he turned, only to bump into Ariadne. "How's it going?"<p>

She bit her lip. "I had to-" she fiddled with her cup, seemingly unsure of what to say. "I had to put a couple of students into detention," she confessed.

Eames began to grin. "Oh dear! Occupational hazard," he commented, taking a sip of coffee. "Their crime?"

She looked at him. "They were really rude. About Arthur."

"Arthur!" Eames' eyebrows shot up. "What did they do? Insult his dress sense?"

"No." She looked at him. "They said they thought he...couldn't teach."

Eames swallowed. "Well, Ari, do remember that all they really see of Arthur is this despot who wanders around disciplining people."

She nodded. "I know, but he doesn't deserve it-" she broke off. Arthur was entering the staff lounge. He looked relaxed - the most relaxed the others had ever seen him.

Eames took a sip of coffee. "Well, if it isn't Arthur. He's smiling." He blinked. "That is Arthur?"

Ariadne turned. "Yes, it is." He walked over to the two of them, and smiled again. "Hi."

"You feeling ok?" Eames commented. Arthur furrowed his brow. "I feel fine. Why?"

"You're smiling," Eames said, grinning. "Its unnatural, and it disturbs me."

"Why don't you go and teach?" Arthur retorted. "You doing some work disturbs me." Eames' eyebrows shot up again at this retort, as he'd been expecting a glare, but found himself frozen out as Arthur turned to Ariadne. "Can I have a word? In private?"

She nodded. "Of course." She followed him to a private corner of the lounge. Swallowing, he looked at her.

"Listen, I know I ran out on you the other day," he said, trying to keep himself from reddening. "And I'm sorry. I was wondering...dinner, maybe tomorrow night?"

She blinked. This was not what she had expected. She bit her lip.

"I, uh-" she noticed Arthur's face beginning to fall slightly. "I'd love to!" He smiled, and she blinked as his dimples appeared.

"So, um, I'll pick you up at half seven?"

"Sounds good!" She said, brightly. "See you then!"

Blushing, Arthur walked out. Eames immediately materialised at Ariadne's side. "Well?"

"He asked me out. For dinner!"

"No!" Eames looked astonished. "Thats not possible!"

"Why?" She looked at him.

"Because I've never seen him eat," Eames said, grinning, "and Arthur going out on a date? The man has no life!"

She looked at Eames, and smiled.

"Well, I guess thats changing."

* * *

><p>Arthur hummed to himself as he walked back to his office. The class, he reflected, had gone better than he thought, and he'd finally worked up the courage to ask Ariadne out. "But its just dinner," he told his desk lamp. "Nothing more. I'm not going to-"<p>

"Going to what?"

Arthur blinked. Eames was standing in the doorway, grinning fit to burst. Arthur seated himself behind his desk and pretended to be busy.

"You sly dog!" Eames hissed, approaching him. "You've gone and asked her out on a date!"

"Eames," Arthur said, suddenly feeling a mantle of primness descend over him. "A date is when you think you might have s-"

"Oh, stop it!" Eames said, breezily. "You've thought of it!"

Arthur blinked. "Eames! I'm taking her out for dinner!" He glared at the Drama specialist. "You know, dinner! The meal people eat at the end of the day, where you get to know one another!"

Eames looked at him. "If you say so," he said, nonchalantly. "If you say so, Artie, I believe you completely."

Arthur looked at his desk. "It doesn't matter if you believe me or not, I-"

Suddenly, the door burst open, and in walked Cobb. "Arthur! How did it go?"

"It went well," Arthur replied, noting that Cobb seemed slightly abrupt. "You ok?"

"No," Cobb shook his head. "The Head of the Elementary School just called - James has had an accident."

"Oh, no!" Arthur exclaimed. "What happened?"

"He fell over in the playground. Very nasty gash to his knee." Cobb rubbed his head. "He'll need a couple of stitches."

"How did that happen?" Arthur asked.

Cobb suddenly looked embarrassed. "He was playing kiss chase!"

"Kiss chase?" Eames suddenly snorted with laughter. "You're clearly never too young - or too old to do it, eh, Arthur?"

"What?" Cobb looked bewildered, and Arthur looked at Eames, darkly. "Ignore him."

"Whatever." Cobb looked irritated. "Arthur, I need you to do detention duty for me tonight. Please?"

Arthur swallowed. "OK."

"Thank you." Cobb looked relieved. "I'm going to the hospital now!"

Arthur sighed. "Duty."

"Oh well." Eames smiled. "See you later." Whistling, he left.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Arthur took his place in the study hall. Several students were already seated, all looking put out at having to spend an hour of their lives in suspended animation. Arthur sat down at the desk.<p>

"OK," he spoked firmly. "All of you put your hands on the desk and look to the front." He checked his list. "Kevin...Michael...Tiffany..."

The students all called out in response to their names. Arthur then checked the teachers' names, frowning.

"Kevin, Mike?"

"Yes Sir?" Kevin responded.

"It says here you're both in detention due to Ms Henderson."

"Yes." Kevin snickered.

"What?" Arthur glared.

"We're here because we insulted you," Kevin said, rudely. "Ms Henderson didn't like it!"

"I-" Arthur blinked.

"Ms Henderson thought we were really rude for suggesting you couldn't teach," Mike said, huffily. "So she put us in detention."

"I think you should put her in detention, Sir!" Kevin said, snickering again. "She doesn't think you can stand up for yourself!"

"Thats enough!" Arthur snapped. His blood was beginning to boil.

"Oh, yeah, what did she say?" Kevin looked at Mike. "Mr Ogilvie deserves better!"

Arthur glared. "Stop it."

"Of course." Kevin leaned back. "But she undermines you, Mr Ogilvie!"

Glowering, Arthur lowered his head to the desk. As he scratched his pen over his lesson plan for the following day, he decided he would speak to Ariadne at the earliest opportunity.

"I think she has a crush on you Sir!" Mike piped up.

"Yeah!" Kevin said, with a grin.

"I'm warning you-"

"It must be true!" Kevin said, "otherwise, you wouldn't be getting so-"

"ENOUGH!" Arthur roared, causing the entire room to look up. "You two, outside my office! Suspension!"

Jaws dropping, the two teenagers got up, and began to meekly move to the door. Furious, Arthur stormed out behind them.

**All reviews appreciated, I like to know whose reading! Thank you!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur bit the end of his pen. Suspending two students the previous day...he knew Cobb would be furious. With a feeling of foreboding, he checked his work email. Sure enough, an email from "Principal" popped up in his inbox.

_Arthur,_

_ I've dealt with two angry phone calls today about the supsension of Kevin and Mike. Please talk to me about this._

_ Dom._

Swallowing, Arthur walked into Cobb's adjoining office. The Principal was tinkering with a strange looking machine. Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"What on earth...?"

"Hey," Cobb said, looking up, and smiling. "Like it? Its for my 'psychology of dreams' class."

Arthur frowned. "Sure we should be using that on students?"

Cobb looked exasperated. "I'm sure. Have a seat, Art." The Vice Principal did so, and Cobb perched on the edge of his desk. "Listen, whats going on? You suspended two students yesterday. And their parents are claiming that it was over talking."

Arthur visibly bristled. "No, they weren't! They were-" he paused, suddenly afraid of seeming childish.

Cobb looked at him. "Arthur. They're teenagers. They're moody, silly at times. They're also the reason we're here - to guide them, help them, mentor them. Not suspend them when they're kids being kids. And kids like to talk You know this."

"It was what they were saying!" Arthur protested. Suddenly, he felt like a teenager again himself - the overweight one that everyone laughed at, who ended up burying himself in books and taking solace in his guitair.

Cobb looked at him. "What were they saying?"

Arthur paused. "They were- making comments about Ariadne," he said, looking at Cobb. " Saying she couldn't teach."

Cobb raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes," Arthur said, aware he was sinking into his own lie, but it was too humiliating to admit that they'd been teasing him over having a crush.

"Well, if thats the case," Cobb said, "I'll ring the parents back, saying it was inappropriate rudeness to a member of staff." He smiled at Arthur. "Good call."

Arthur exhaled, slowly. "Thanks." He turned and left, loosening his tie as he did so.

* * *

><p>"Spill!"<p>

Arthur looked up. Eames had seated himself opposite to him, his eyes gleaming. Arthur sighed and dug his fork into his tuna salad, watching as Eames picked up his cheeseburger.

"Those things will kill you, you know," he commented, dryly. The Drama specialist merely grinned and took a bite.

"Maybe," he commented. "But at least I won't have cat breath."

"What?" Arthur looked at him.

"Cat breath," Eames said, pointing at the salad. "Don't you have a date tonight?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Maybe."

"Well, I wouldn't gorge on tuna salad, you'll get bad breath." Eames took another bite of cheeseburger. "Then she won't snog your face off later!"

"Eames!" Arthur blushed. "Ariadne will not-"

"Oh, she might." Eames grinned again. "You might get lucky!"

"Ssh!" Arthur said, frantically. "Here she comes!"

The Art teacher was approaching their table. On her tray she had lasagne and chocolate chip cookie. "Hi," she said, hesitantly.

Eames smiled. "Please, join us!"

She sat down, and looked at the two men, shyly. "Arthur..."

"Yes?"

"Its 7pm tonight, isn't it?"

He swallowed. "Yes, it is." He thrust another forkful of salad into his mouth. "I'll pick you up!"

"Great!" She smiled at him. "What should I wear?"

Arthur thought, frantically. "Oh, don't get dressed up. It is a weekday night."

She nodded. "OK." She dug her fork into the lasagne. Arthur watched as she lifted a forkful, and proceeded to delicately place a strand of melting cheese into her mouth.

"Um, I have to go," he said, hurriedly. "I'll see you later!"

She nodded. "Of course!"

He picked up the tray, and hurried off. Ariadne frowned. Eames caught her eye. "What's up?"

"Well," she said, looking after Arthur. "This date..."

"He likes you," Eames said, sincerely. "He gets nervous. Just make him relax."

Ariadne nodded. "I'll try."

* * *

><p>Arthur finished buttoning his vest, and frowned. He couldn't wear a suit. He was trying, he remembered, to be casual.<p>

"I don't do casual," he muttered. "I don't-" he picked up his cellphone, and dialled, hoping for some advice from Eames. The call went straight to voicemail.

Arthur sighed. Clearly, there was only one solution.

* * *

><p>Ariadne blinked. Standing in front of her was the Vice Principal. In a suit. She blushed - she was wearing jeans and a button down shirt.<p>

"I didn't-" she broke off. Arthur flushed.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "but everything else is in the wash." He looked at his feet.

"You look great," she said, sincerely. "Let's go!"

* * *

><p>"Do you come here often?"<p>

Arthur blinked. He'd brought Ariadne to a relatively low key restaurant. "Sometimes," he said hastily.

He then proceeded to fiddle with his fork. Two courses had passed, along with polite small talk. So far, they'd gone through the weather, the latest movies, and the classes they taught. Now, it was heading towards dessert, and he realised he was rapidly running out of things to say.

"So um," Ariadne said, looking at him. "Do you-"

He blinked. "Do I?"

"Do you think the new behaviour policy-" she broke off. "Oh, dessert menu!"

The waiter, smiling, handed over the small black menus. Arthur swallowed. "Just an Americano for me, thank you."

Ariadne looked surprised. "No dessert?"

Arthur blushed slightly. "Um, no."

She leaned forward. "Why?"

He swallowed. "I-" He blinked. She was smiling at him, which somehow, was making him relax. "I just don't want to get fat, thats all."

"Arthur!" Ariadne looked slightly shocked. "You're so thin!"

He blushed again. "Not always." He rearranged his remaining cutlery. "I was pretty overweight as a teenager. I try and be careful now."

She looked at him. "Well, there's nothing wrong with enjoying yourself once in a while!"

He looked at her. "I...guess not."

"Arthur." She looked at him. "Life is for living. I feel like a slice of cheesecake. I can get two forks?"

He swallowed. "Sounds...good."

Ariadne nodded. "Great!" She turned and gestured to the waiter. Arthur leaned back in his chair. Maybe loosening up wasn't going to be so hard, after all.

"Oh, and by the way," he said, "those two students you put in detention? I suspended them!"

"You did?" She looked shocked. "What for?"

"They were incredibly rude," he said, hurriedly. "I won't tolerate that, especially against a new member of staff!" He swallowed again. "And someone whose a friend." He blinked. She was - he wanted her to be more than a friend. _God, I'm stupid! _

She nodded, her expression slightly crestfallen. "OK, thank you." The cheesecake arrived, complete with two forks. She looked at him.

"Do you want the first bite?"

Arthur smiled, seemingly oblivious to her slightly downbeat demeanour. "Sure. What are friends for?"

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Nor does the movie I rip one of the lines in the chapter from. **

"So how did it go?"

Arthur blinked as Eames materialised in his office. He groaned. He'd got back later than he intended after dinner with Ariadne, and the thought of how it had ended made him cringe.

He'd driven her back to her apartment, aware of the fact that he'd made a serious error in referring to her as a friend. Upon arriving, he'd unbuckled his seat belt, and turned to her.

"So..." he said, slowly.

"So," she mirrored, a note of formal politeness in her voice.

Arthur swallowed. "Ariadne, tonight was really lovely, and I enjoyed it, and thank you." As soon as the words were out of his mouth he crniged. They sounded ridiculous, like a child thanking a friend's parents for inviting him to a party.

She blinked. "Thank you? For what?"

"Well," he said, reflexively, "for...this..." he leaned forward. Startled, she drew back, and he ended up landing a kiss on her chin. As soon as he realised what had happened, he blushed scarlet.

"Oh," Ariadne said, awkwardly. "Thank you, too." She quickly leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He felt slightly crushed, wishing he could turn back time and go to the beginning. He would have dressed more casually, had his own slice of cheesecake, and not called her a friend. He cursed his own stupidity.

"I'll...see you tomorrow," he said, desperately trying to break the now awkward silence.

She nodded. "Sure."

Arthur drove back to his own apartment block, wondering why dating for him seemed to be so much harder than for everyone else.

"So," Eames said. "Arthur, Arthur, Arhur..."

"What?"

"You really need to relax more." Eames grinned, and leaned back in the seat he'd plonked himself down in. "And maybe be a bit more...macho."

Arthur blinked. "Macho?" his voice was slightly scornful. "Eames, I really hope you're not suggesting I turn into one of these assholes who pick women up in bars, treat them like garbage, and-"

"No, no!" Eames leaned forward. "You misunderstand me, Artie! Be a bit more cocky, a bit more swaggering. I bet when you went out last night, you were like a blushing Victorian Virgin on a date with a nobleman!"

"Eames, I am not a v-"

"Glad to hear it," Eames said, grinning again. Arthur flushed as he realised he'd admitted perhaps more than he wanted to.

"So," Eames continued, "just be a little more sure of yourself. You're the Vice Principal! You have girls now wanting to switch to music because you teach it?"

"Really?" Arthur arched an eyebrow. "And out of what do they want to switch?"

"Drama," Eames admitted, sheepishly.

Arthur began to smile. "Really?"

"Yes," Eames said. "Let's say you and a guitair is fuelling quite a few adolescent fantasies."

Arthur blinked. "Oh joy."

"Yes," Eames said, bursting into laughter, "I reckon you're now the school equivalent of Justin Bieber!"

Arthur scowled. "Eames. Please."

* * *

><p>Ariadne blinked. Arthur was entering the Staff Lounge, carrying a pile of papers. He sat down at one of the small tables, and pulling out a red pen, immediately began to read and grade them.<p>

Mal, who was also marking, looked over. "How's it going, Arthur?"

"Its ok," he said, pleasantly. "I'm actually enjoying teaching again."

"You mean you don't like sitting in an office and telling us all what to do?" Eames, who was also in the lounge, couldn't resist that.

"No," Arthur mumbled, looking down at the papers. "I don't."

Ariadne got up. "I'm going to the coffee machine next door," she said, pleasantly. "Does anyone want anything?"

"Tea please, two sugars." Eames commented.

"Black coffee, thank you," Mal said.

She turned after Yusuf shook his head no. "Arthur?"

Arthur swallowed. "I think you know what I need," he said, trying to sound completely carefree, yet also deepening his voice slightly.

Ariadne looked completely taken aback. Eames started to laugh which he hurriedly turned into a very loud cough. Mal looked startled, Yusuf looked confused.

Arthur swallowed. "I mean, a white coffee. No sugar, please."

Ariadne nodded. "Of course, Arthur." Raising her eyebrows, and blinking slightly, she walked into the direction of the coffee machine. Eames looked at Arthur, and smiled. Arthur glowered and looked down at the papers he was grading.

After a few minutes, Ariadne returned, carrying a tray of plastic cups containing the hot drinks. She began to distribute them.

"You did say, no sugar, didn't you?" She asked Arthur, pleasantly.

"I did," Arthur mumbled. "Thank you."

Eames grinned. "He's sweet enough already!"

Ariadne began to laugh. Arthur shot Eames a look that translated as _I will kill you very slowly. _Suddenly, the bell rang. Arthur, relieved, picked up the coffee and his papers and began to leave the room.

"Hey, Art!" Eames called. "Where are you going?"

"To teach!" Arthur called back.

Ariadne looked over. "May I come and observe you?"

There was a sudden splattering sound as Arthur's cup of coffee hit the floor.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur swallowed, and held his wrists under the running cold water to cool his blood.

"She wants to observe me," he muttered, "She wants to observe me. Nothing wrong with that."

He dried his hands, and began to walk in the direction of his office. "Nothing wrong at all."

* * *

><p>Ariadne stirred her cup of coffee, discontentedly. She couldn't work out what it was with Arthur, but he seemed to be increasingly imitating a cat caught on hot coals. She sighed, and looked into the dark liquid.<p>

"You ok?"

She looked up. Eames was standing next to her, and before she could speak, he pulled out a chair, and sat down.

"Fine," she said, with a forced smile. "Fine."

Eames raised an eyebrow. "Whats wrong? Arthur being a pain?"

She shook her head. "No. Its just-"

"Just what?" The British man was looking at her, his face a picture of wide eyed innocence. The Art specialist took a look round the staff room, and then lowered her voice.

"Well, we went out for dinner last night, but he seemed really uncomfortable." She sipped her coffee. "He said he couldn't have dessert because he was heavy when he was younger, then when he drove me back, he leaned over, and kissed me on the chin."

Eames raised an eyebrow. "Oh dear. Sounds awkward."

"It was." She leaned back in her seat, seemingly defeated. "I don't get him. He seems so smooth, so-" she paused, biting her lip. "But then he seems really unsure of himself."

Eames leaned forward. "Ari, let me tell you something about Arthur. He really doesn't get out much, and he's quite awkward in situations that are new to him."

"Oh." She looked at Eames. "So what do I do?"

"Well," Eames began to grin. "I'm free tonight, and I wondered if you...?"

She blinked. "Are you asking me out on a date, Eames?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

Ariadne bit her lip. "Eames, I would really like to...but I-" she shook her head, smiling.

Eames nodded. "OK, I can take a hint." He smiled at her, and stood up. "No hard feelings, trust me." He began to leave the room.

The Art teacher looked after him. "Eames!"

He turned. "Yes?"

"Well," she began, "Arthur is difficult to get to know, and I don't know many people here, so, yes, tonight sounds good. As friends?"

Eames nodded. "Of course." He smiled. "I'll see you at eight?"

Ariadne smiled. "Great, see you then!"

* * *

><p>Arthur scribbled on a sheet of paper. The next lesson for his twelth graders was proving very hard to plan. He slumped in his seat, feeling defeated. "Ariadne wants to observe me," he muttered. "Great."<p>

"Hey up!"

Arthur looked up from his desk. "Eames. What is it?" he gestured to his lesson plan. "I'm pretty busy."

Eames sat down, his eyes dancing. "How was your date last night?"

Arthur looked at the desk. "It was...good, thanks."

"Really?" Eames was grinning. "So you didn't refuse to eat your dessert and then not kiss her?"

Arthur scowled. "I was full, and she moved and- "

"Oh, Arthur!" Eames was starting to laugh. "You need to relax! But I have the perfect solution!"

"What?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Its simple," Eames said, grinning again. "I've asked Ariadne out this evening. We're meeting at eight pm. I'm taking her to the Coffee Bean. And I will be unpleasant, boorish, sexist, and everything I'm not."

Arthur coughed, causing Eames to glare. "Continue."

"Well, I go out with her, and try it on," Eames continued, "and you walk in, and stop me. Therefore, you show her how macho you are, how in control, she looks at you in a completely new light, and chances are you'll be on a date again in no time. What do you think?"

Arthur paused, and looked at Eames. "Eames, I think its one of the stupidest, most cliched ideas you've ever had." His tone was scornful. "If Ariadne really likes me, she'll be impressed by what I do." He stood up, the lesson plan scooped off the desk. "She's observing me next period."

"Really?" Eames raised an eyebrow. "And what are you going to do?"

Arthur turned, and smiled.

"Wouldn't you like to know!"

And with that, he turned and walked out of the office, leaving the Drama specialist staring after him.

**All readers appreciated, and I'd love some reviews, thank you!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur hurried down the corridor. He was almost late. Eames had managed to successfully waylay him, and he was now fearful that his Twelth graders were climbing the walls. He practically broke into a run as the music room neared, and arrived, slightly sweaty and out of breath.

To his astonishment, the room was perfectly calm. The students were sitting at their desks, looking expectant, but there was no anger or aggression on their faces. They did however, smile when they say him.

"OK," Arthur said, his breathing slightly rapid. "Today we are going to have to work on your compositions. You know that this makes up 25% of your final credit this year."

"Mr Ogilvie!" One of the boys immediately put his hand up. "Does it have to be like, a classical piece?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, it doesn't."

A sigh of relief echoed around the room. Arthur let it dissipate before he began speaking again. "A composition means an original piece of music. It can be a song, an instrumental - anything. And the genre doesn't matter."

"What instrument?" A female student asked.

Arthur smiled. "Anything. Piano, guitair, anything."

The students nodded. Arthur spoke again. "And of course, there is the performance piece."

"Performance?" one student muttered. Arthur swallowed. "Yes, performance. You have to perform a piece in front of the examiners."

A female student coughed. Arthur turned to her. "What is it, Bethany?"

"Well, I-" she swallowed. "The only thing I could perform would be something popular."

Arthur smiled. "Its music, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Good!" Arthur continued. "So think as well about what you want to perform.

Another student spoke. "Mr Ogilvie, do you play the guitair?"

Arthur swallowed. "I, er-"

"It would help us if you showed us how to perform."

Arthur blushed slightly. "Well, Bethany, I don't think-"

"Mr Ogilvie!" interrupted another student. "You should! We need to know what the examiners are looking for!"

Arthur looked at the students, suddenly feeling locked in by 12 pairs of eager eyes. He swallowed. "OK," he said slowly, "I'll show you."

Turning, he headed for the music cupboard.

* * *

><p>Ariadne swallowed. She'd asked if she could observe Arthur, but he'd never been entirely clear about when she could observe him. She felt slightly rattled after her conversation with Eames, and decided she had to try and talk to him.<p>

She checked her watch. She could go and watch Arthur teach, and then try and catch him. Swallowing, she continued to the music room.

* * *

><p>"The whole point of performance," Arthur continued, "is confidence. Confidence can make all the difference."<p>

The class nodded. He swallowed.

"But, sometimes its good to shock the audience a little bit. Make them realise that you can't be safe." He picked up the guitair. and slung the strap over his head and shoulders. "For example...you may not recognise this song."

* * *

><p>Ariadne hurried down the hallway, and at the doorway of the music room, stopped. She could hear Arthur's voice:<p>

_ Breathe feel love _

_Give Free_

_Know in your soul..._

She swallowed, listening intently. She suddenly realised that the class were as taken as she was.

_...And your shining _

_Like the brightest star,_

_A transmission on the midnight radio..._

__Ariadne gasped. She had never expected Arthur to be aware of "Hedwig and the Angry Inch." Her gasp was louder than she intended, and he stopped abruptly, turning and noticing her.

"Ariad- Ms Henderson!" He said, suddenly remembering where he was. The students noticed, and suddenly a wave of murmurs broke out. Flushing, the art teacher turned and fled.

"No, wait!" Arthur called, forgetting where he was. As he saw her run down the corridor, he stripped the guitair off, and followed.

**All reviews appreciated. Thank you!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur hurried down the corridor, trying to catch up with Ariadne before she vanished back into the Art room. Suddenly, he stopped. He could hear a voice.

"Oh, are you allright?"

Arthur took a deep breath and began to count to ten. This was not good. He paused, and heard something in a female voice being mumbled. Gritting his teeth, he turned and walked back to the classroom, only for twelve pairs of interested eyes to look up at him.

"OK," he said, trying to stay calm. "Lets have a look at how you're going to begin your compositions. Work in pairs, and start discussing!"

Nodding, the students turned to each other. Arthur took a deep breath. He knew they wanted to know what was going on, but he wasn't prepared to make even more of a fool of himself. He picked up the whiteboard marker, willing himself to remain calm.

"Mr Ogilvie?"

He swallowed.

"Yes, Bethany?"

"Are you ok?"

Arthur exhaled slowly. He'd forgotten, due to spending so much time on administration, how students could be genuinely mindful of how their teachers felt, coupled with a large helping of nosiness. "Yes, Bethany." He turned, and smiled at her. "I'm fine. Now, who has come up with ideas?"

* * *

><p>Ariadne swallowed, and looked at the man in front of her. He was tall, thin, and pale, with light blue eyes. She'd never really seen him before, and the lack of familiarity confused her.<p>

"I'm Robert Fischer", he explained, smiling. "I teach Business Math and Economics."

Her brow crinkled. "I don't think I've seen you before-"

"Oh, you won't have," he reassured her. "I'm only part time." He smiled at her. "Do you want to get a cup of coffee?"

Ariadne bit her lip. "OK," she said, somewhat uncertainly. He smiled again.

"Great. Let's go to the staff lounge, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Arthur headed for the teacher's lounge, straight after the lesson had finished. He was determined to try and find Ariadne, and talk to her.<p>

_I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, _he chanted in his mind. Feeling reassured in what he wanted to say, he entered the room, trying to keep calm.

Suddenly, he stopped.

Ariadne was ensconced in one corner of the room, holding a cup of coffee. Talking to Fischer. Feeling a surge of annoyance, Arthur swallowed and walked across the room.

"Hey," he said, casually. Ariadne looked up, and smiled. Fischer looked irritated.

"Oh, Arthur," he said, his voice masking his annoyance. "So good to see you. How was your summer? I spent it travelling around Thailand and Japan. Fascinating."

Arthur gritted his teeth. Fischer always had to make a point of reminding everyone that he didn't really need to work, and could quite happily live off his inheritance for the rest of his life. His job, he kept stressing, was merely something he did out of altruism.

"It was fine, thanks," Arthur said, through gritted teeth. "I spent most of it working."

Fischer snickered. "Of course you did. Poor you, having to keep working for a living."

Arthur's grip tightened around his mug handle. Would anyone notice if he threw his cold coffee down the front of Fischer's shirt?

Ariadne got up. "Listen, I have to go back down to the Art room," she said, quickly. "I'll catch up with you both later."

Arthur turned. "Ari, I-"

"Oh, I'm sure you've got some paperwork to do," Fischer interrupted. He smiled at the younger woman, the kind of smile that reminded Arthur of a snake about to pounce on its prey. "Listen, I was wondering if you want to go out for dinner tomorrow."

Ariadne swallowed. "Thats really nice of you, but-"

"I'll pick you up at eight," Fischer insisted. Ariadne cast a slightly worried look at Arthur, who was beginning to walk away. She bit her lip, and turned back to Fischer.

"Well, uh-"

"Good, its settled." Fischer spoke smoothly. "Is Fargo's ok?"

* * *

><p>Arthur skulked around his apartment that night, cleaning the kitchen. It didn't need cleaning, but he felt that wiping it down was a simple soothing task that would keep his mind off the fact that Ariadne seemed to be getting fixed up with Fischer. As he angrily scrubbed at the countertop, the intercom into his flat buzzed. He slammed the cloth down, cursing under his breath. He pressed the button. "Yes?"<p>

"Arthur, open up! I'm cold!"

Arthur sighed and pressed. Eames. After a few minutes, he heard a thump on the door. As he pulled it open, he found the drama specialist, who was holding a bottle wrapped in a paper bag. Arthur's eyebrows went up.

"Well, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he said, sarcastically. Eames looked wounded.

"Very simple, Arthur. I was in the neighbourhood, and thought you could use a little company."

Arthur tilted his head to one side. "How thoughtful. Why?"

Eames raised an eyebrow. "Well, it might just have something to do with Robert Fischer strutting around, crowing over the fact he has a date with Ariadne tomorrow. Thought you might want to talk about it?"

Arthur glared. He felt vulnerable, and snapped back. "Well, how nice. But I don't need help, or company." He turned, a scowl on his face. Eames swallowed.

"Look, Arthur." Eames was smiling. "You like her. You're clueless in these situations. Fischer, sadly, isn't. Now, how about you get two glasses, I pour some shots of Glenfiddich, and we discuss how you're going to sabotage this date, sweep her off her feet, and stop wandering around with a face thats making all the Twelth grade girls feel sorry for you?"

Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "They feel sorry for me?"

"Yes," Eames said, impatiently. "Now get the glasses, ok?"

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great, thank you! **


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

"So, what do you suggest?" Arthur asked, a touch irritably. He'd found two glasses, and Eames had poured the scotch. A few sips later, and he was beginning to suspect that Eames had no solutions, but merely needed a drinking buddy.

"Its very simple," Eames said. "You go to the restaurant with someone, you bump into them, and you casually ask, 'can we be a four?'"

Arthur blinked. "Right. And how am I suppose to get a date at such short notice?"

Eames shrugged. "I was thinking you could ask me."

"You?" Arthur looked stunned. "Eames!"

"Look, friends go out for dinner!" Eames shook his head. "We could say we were working late, and-"

"Eames! Do you have any idea how many rumours that will start?" Arthur sometimes wondered if Eames lived on any planet other than his own.

"No." Eames smiled innocently.

"I'm not doing it." Arthur said, grumpily. "I have a reputation, and so do you!"

"Indeed I do, you should hear what they write about me in the girls' toilets. Anyhow, its simple. We go out, bump into them, and then-"

"Let's ask Mal and Dom along," Arthur interrupted.

"What?"

"You heard." Arthur looked at him "We ask Mal and Dom, or I'm not going."

Eames pulled a face. "Honestly Arthur. When you get a strop on, you're worse than the kids. Ill see what I can do."

* * *

><p>Ariadne looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing her black dress, and heels. She rarely got dressed up, and the outfit felt tight, and restricting.<p>

She bit her lip. Robert seemed like a nice guy, but Fargo's...it was expensive. Very expensive. She had a feeling Robert wanted to impress. The doorbell rang, and she hurried to the door.

Robert stood in the doorway, wearing a black suit and light blue tie. He offered her his arm, smiling.

She swallowed. "Hi."

"Good evening," he responded. They walked to his car. She blinked. It was a top of the range silver porsche. She got in, wondering what was going to happen.

"Right." Robert turned to her. "The restaurant is wonderful. I do hope you'll enjoy it."

His hand slid onto her knee; her eyes widened. Arthur had never been so forward. Even when he kissed her he'd done it awkwardly.

"Let's go," he whispered. She nodded. Turning, he started the engine.

* * *

><p>"You ok, Arthur? You look nervous."<p>

Arthur blinked. Eventually, he'd agreed to Eames suggestion of going out for dinner with Dom and Mal, but he couldn't hide his nervousness.

_What if she doesn't show up? _he fretted. He cast his eyes round the restaurant; Eames nudged him.

"Stop being so bloody obvious!" he whispered. Arthur nodded, his expression tightening. Suddenly, he stood up.

"They're here!" he hissed.

Eames nodded. Ariadne and Robert had entered the restaurant, Robert leading her in. He noticed she was wearing a dress, which made his eyes widen. He turned.

"Eames!" He nudged his friend and colleague. "You're staring!"

Eames blinked. "Well, Artie, you see someone in a different light when they're-" he turned, smiled and waved. "Robert! Ariadne!"

Robert looked up. Arthur could tell that his pale, still face was trying to suppress annoyance when he saw the four of them. He also noted that Ariadne's face showed something akin to relief.

Dom walked over, smiling. "Well, hello! Listen, we thought we'd-" he waved his hand in the direction of the others - "would go out to eat. Let's put some tables together!"

Robert pressed his lips together, tightly; Ariadne smiled. "Sounds great!"

Arthur looked at her. Her face was slightly flushed, and she seemed anxious. He walked over.

"Hey," he said, softly, "are you ok?"

She bit her lip. "I'm fine," she said, her voice sounding unnaturally high pitched. "Shall we all sit down?"

Arthur nodded, trying to ignore the icy glares emanating from Robert. The six of them were ushered to a table.

* * *

><p>"Well, I don't hold with all this testing. Students should be allowed to flourish!"<p>

Arthur sighed inwardly. Eames was on his third glass of wine, and becoming more rambunctious. Mal was smiling, indulgently, Cobb looked as though he were wishing he were somewhere else. Robert, who was sitting next to Ariadne, was very quiet.

"Yes, but Eames..." Cobb let the sentence drift, as Mal put her hand over his.

Arthur, who was sitting on her other side, turned to her. "So, did you have a good day?"

He could have kicked himself. _How facile._

"It, was interesting," she responded. She was looking at the table, and not at him. Arthur frowned slightly and reached for his water glass.

* * *

><p>Ariadne felt decidedly uncomfortable. Robert, she decided, had been an octopus in a previous life. His hands were all over her. She'd never felt so relieved when she'd seen the others in the restaurant.<p>

Arthur, she mused, wouldn't be like that. Yes, he was a man, but he was also respectful.

She blinked. Robert's hand was on her thigh.

"Robert, please." Her voice was barely a whisper.

Robert frowned and leaned forward. "I've just bought you dinner."

"But you-"

Ariadne swallowed. She felt completely out of her depth.

* * *

><p>Arthur took a swallow of water. The food was delicious, and the company was good, but he could see how Robert's hands were crawling over Ariadne.<p>

Suddenly, he blinked.

Robert's hand was on her thigh. And he was smirking.

He looked at Ariadne, and then locked eyes with Robert. The slightly older man raised an eyebrow.

"Problem, Arthur?"

**All reviews appreciated, I like to know whose reading! Thank you!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur took a deep breath. "I think your hands are...in the wrong place, Robert."

The older man glared at him, haughtily, but pulled his hand away from Ariadne's knee. She looked at Arthur, and smiled, gratefully. He nodded, and looked back at his plate. His steak was still hidden under a mound of congealing sauce. Sighing irritably, he stabbed it with his fork.

* * *

><p>"So, I think the SAT results could be the best ever..."<p>

Arthur downed his wine and checked his watch. Half past nine. He sighed, his eyes wandering to where Robert's hand kept inching towards Ariadne's knee. He tried to be interested in Dom talking about SATs, and gestured to a waiter.

Eames looked at him and smiled reassuringly. Arthur raised an eyebrow, and tried to think of a topic of conversation.

"So," Dom said, noting the pause that had fallen over the table. "Anyone having dessert?"

"Oh, yes, I think so," Eames commented, reaching for the menu. Robert looked at him, and smirked.

"Don't you ever worry about over indulging, Eames?" There was an unpleasant undertone to his voice that made Arthur frown. Robert leaned over. "I mean, it all catches up with you...sooner or later."

Eames looked at Robert, and smiled calmly. "At least there's something of me to love, Robert."

Ariadne stifled a giggle. Robert scowled slightly and leaned back in his seat. Arthur fiddled with his wine glass. Robert's pale face was turning paler. Ariadne reached for a dessert menu.

"I think I'll have cheescake," she announced, and Mal nodded. "Good choice."

"So, is everyone ordering something else?" Arthur was beginning to hope they wouldn't - he wanted this excrutiating meal to end. He sighed with annoyance.

"What's wrong?" Ariadne asked, looking at him. He blinked.

"Nothing...I'm just tired." He gestured to a waiter. The man came over. "Yes, Sir?"

"Can I have ice cream please, and a cappuccino?" The waiter nodded, and as he left, Arthur yawned slightly. The long day, tension, and alcohol were beginning to catch up with him.

Robert smirked. "Oh, you poor thing. Past your bedtime?"

Arthur turned to him. "Meaning?"

"Well, its a hard job, being Vice Principal." Robert smirked and reached for his own wine glass. "You have to breathe down students' necks, and colleagues' necks...its must exhaust you, Arthur. It must be so much like hard work."

Arthur glared at him. "And hard work is something you wouldn't know the meaning of, right?"

Robert narrowed his eyes. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Arthur took a swallow of water. "I mean, hard work is not something you really do, Robert. Let's be honest - the only reason you deign to teach a couple of days a week is because otherwise your father would cut you off. He really didn't want you just sitting around and spending his money, did he?"

Robert leaned back in his chair. "Well, maybe, but at least I have money, Arthur. I'm not in the position of having to grubble away for the rest of my life, working as a Vice Principal, because otherwise I'd starve." He smirked. "Tell me, Arthur. Are your parents proud of you?"

Arthur swallowed, wishing he could think of something suitably cutting to say.

"Now, gentlemen," Eames said, affably. Suddenly, the waiter appeared. On a tray were four slices of cheesecake, and a dish of icecream. Slowly, self-consciously, he put the cheesecake slices in front of everyone, except Arthur. A dish of vanilla ice cream went in front of him. He swallowed, and picked up his spoon.

Silence began to descend over the table again. Suddenly, Robert spoke.

"Why did you go into teaching, Arthur?" His voice was smooth. "Was it so you could enjoy being in an institution with rules for the rest of your life? Or was it-" his eyes glittered - "so you could try and trawl among the female staff for a wife?"

Arthur swallowed. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you must find it very hard to get out." Robert was grinning. "You're so dedicated to your job, Arthur. You spend all your time slaving away in that office, or teaching. You must need some time to get out. I, on the other hand, have the time to look for someone to spend the rest of my life with." He turned to Ariadne and lifted her hand. "And, now, let me ask you. Do you believe a man should be able to provide for a woman? Because I can provide for you." His hand was on her thigh again.

Ariadne blinked. "Robert, please-"

"I'm just asking. Should a man be able to provide?" Robert appeared to have completely forgotten that the others were at the table. He leaned over, smiling at Ariadne. Arthur swallowed. The man reminded him of a shark. He still had his hand on Ariadne's leg.

"Robert." Arthur's voice held a warning tone.

"Arthur." Robert's tone was condescending. "Why don't you mind your own business? I'm here, with a very attractive young woman, and you can't handle it."

Eames broke in. "Robert, I've been a bit brazen in my time, but-"

"Eames." Robert turned and looked at him. "Stop it. Arthur can stand up for himself. Now, I'm going to leave a $100 on the table, and then I'm going to take Ariadne home." He pulled out his wallet.

"Robert, I can make my own way home," Ariadne protested. "I can-"

"Oh, come on. My Porsche is parked outside." He smiled at Arthur. "How did you get here? Was it be the bus?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "No, it wasn't."

"Of course. You make yourself feel better." Robert turned to Ariadne. "Come on, let's-"

Suddenly, he yelped. With a sleight of hand, Arthur had sent his dish of melting ice cream straight into Robert's lap. The older man looked at him, furious, as the sweet mixture began to spread and stain his expensive suit.

"Oh dear," Arthur said, casually, "looks like someone needs to go to the men's room!"

Choking with fury, Robert grabbed his napkin and left the table. Eames was grinning, whilst Dom and Mal looked at Arthur in surprise. Arthur stood up, smiling, and turned to Ariadne.

"Well," he said, pleasantly. "May I take you home? I don't have a porsche," he added, "but its not a pumpkin, either!"

Ariadne blinked, then smiled. "Yes. Please do."

**Please review - it is appreciated!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur swallowed as he led Ariadne out to his car. His modest black fiat could hardly compare with Robert's porsche, but, as he opened the door for her, he decided being chivalrous might make up for it.

"Thank you," Ariadne said, gratefully, as she lowered herself into her seat. As he walked round to his side and unlocked his door, he stole a quick glance. She was fiddling with her handbag, and then her seat belt.

"So," he said, an his mind went slightly blank. "Where do you live?"

She looked at him, and giggled slightly. "Arthur, don't tell me you've forgotten! You came to my apartment when I was sick, remember?"

He flushed red, not wanting to be reminded of how he'd spied on her. "I know, I'm sorry about that-" he paused, aware he was in danger of sounding pathetic. "How about we go to my place?"

She looked at him. "You're sure?"

"Oh yes," he said, trying to sound carefree. "I have some ground roast coffee."

She nodded. "Sounds good."

He switched on the ignition, and began to back out of the parking space. His hands felt slightly damp, and he took a deep breath.

_Just stay calm, _he told himself.

* * *

><p>Robert came back from the men's room, a dull flush upon his normally pale face. Cobb swallowed, trying to appease the angry man.<p>

"Robert, look, I'm sor-"

"You're sorry?" the other man spluttered. "You're sorry that you, your Vice Principal, and a couple of others gatecrashed my date, and then he proceeded to tip his dessert on me and walk out of here with my date?"

"Well, when you put it like that-" Eames commented, but fell silent when Mal leaned over and patted his hand. Cobb took a deep breath.

"As I said Robert, I'm sorry," he said, calmly. "But, your behaviour was out of line. I don't expect to see someone I employ - someone I respect - making another one of my staff uncomfortable like that in public."

Robert blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You know what I mean," Cobb said, his voice taking on a slightly hard edge. "The way you treated Ariadne. Not acceptable Robert. Totally unacceptable."

Robert shrugged. "Well, thats your opinion." Turning, he walked away.

* * *

><p>Arthur carefully steered his car into the parking lot outside his block, and braked. Ariadne was looking into her lap. She'd not said two words since they'd left the restaurant. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and turned to her.<p>

"Ari-"

"Art-"

They both stopped, and then Arthur began to grin, and then laugh. As did she.

"Nervous tension," she offered, and they both started laughing.

"I agree," Arthur said, rubbing his forehead. He groaned. "I don't know what came over me!"

"Well, we all know what came over Robert!" Ariadne suggested, mischeviously. At that, both burst into laughter again.

"We have to get out of here," Arthur said, trying hard to control his laughter. "Come on."

As he opened the door, he paused. Ariadne's hand had found its way onto his. "Thank you," she said softly. "For what you did."

Arthur found himself blush slightly. "Don't mention it." He focused on opening the car door and getting out. As she stood by the door, uncertainly, he approached her. "Come on."

They walked in silence to the doors. As he pushed it open, he turned to her. "Well, we can either walk or take the elevator, depending on what you prefer."

"Oh, I don't mind walking!" she said, quickly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"No, not at all!" She was already climbing up the first fleet of stairs. He started to hurry after her. "Ari, its-" He swallowed. "Seven flights."

Slowly, he began to walk after her. After ten minutes, he found her pausing on the stairwell. "I didn't realise it was so high," she said, apologetically. Arthur smiled.

"Doesn't matter. Gives me a chance to burn off the peppercorn sauce." He looked at her. "One major disadvantage of being a VP - I spend most of my time sitting down." He looked at her. "When I was teaching full time, I was always on my feet." He sighed and they continued to climb. After another four flights, they reached his apartment. "OK," he said, fishing his key out of his pocket. "I warn you, its a little messy."

She shrugged. "Doesn't bother me."

He unlocked the door, and ushered her in. "Take a seat." He hurried into the kitchen. She wandered into the lounge.

"Um, Arthur?"

He was trying to pull his coffee cannister off the shelf. "Yes?"

"I thought you said this was messy?" He hurried back into the lounge. Ariadne was surveying the tastefully decorated and modern living space. "This is immaculate!"

Arthur blinked. "Um, yes, but if you look..." he took a critical look at his lounge. A few CDs were stacked on the glass topped coffee table, rather than being in the rack. A pile of papers he'd been meaning to grade were on the dining table, and, to his shock, a cup containing a half drunk coffee was balancing precariously on the armchair. His eyes widening, he looked at her. "Well, there are things lying around, so-"

She was flipping through the CDs. "Wow! You have Nirvana! " She looked at him. "And-" she paused, her eyes widening. "Marilyn Manson?"

Arthur flushed red and hurried over. "Um, the Manson CD was a gift." He took it from her. "My sister. I asked for a CD by Mansun, the British band. She made a mistake."

She looked at him, grinning. "Have you listened to it all the way through?"

"No," he confessed. "I'm not really into metal." He sighed and put the CD back on the table. "Aside from Metallica. Especially _Master of Puppets._" He looked at her. "And _The Black Album."_

She shook her head. "Arthur. The more I get to know you-"

He swallowed, listening for the kettle. "Yes?"

"-the less I feel I know you," she finished. He swallowed, and turned. "Oh, the kettle!"

He hurried back into the kitchen. Ariadne, feeling she'd embarrassed him, continued to flip through the CDs he'd left on the table. She smiled as she looked at one. The Pixies. She remembered how she'd heard him singing "Here Comes Your Man" in the music room. And then she found another one.

"Portishead!"

He came into the lounge area, carrying a tray. On it sat a cafetiere, two mugs, and a plate with some cookies. He sat the tray down, and settled next to her. "Yes. I saw them live in New York when I was at College." He smiled. "She has the most incredible voice." He took the CD from her. "Shall I put it on?"

Ariadne nodded. "Please."

He slid the disc out of its box, and slipped it into the CD player. As the haunting beats of "Mysterons" began to fill the room, he leaned back, and poured the coffee. "Here."

She accepted her cup. "Thank you."

He offered her the cookies. "Um...cookie?"

She smiled and took one. "Trying to tell me I'm too skinny?" she teased. He blinked. "No," he said, hastily, "its just you never got to eat your cheesecake, so I-"

She looked at him. "Sorry, I'm doing a good job of embarrassing myself this evening." She bit into the cookie. "You're very thoughtful."

"I do try." He took a sip of coffee, listening to Beth Gibbons' haunting voice as it swelled around the room. He put his coffee cup down, and turned to her. "Would you like to dance?"

Her eyes widened, then she nodded. "Sure. Why not?"

They both got up, and he looped an arm around her waist. As they moved, the lyrics began to hum around them:

_Nobody loves me, its true_

_Not like you do..._

Arthur blinked. "Ariadne, I'm not sure if we-"

She put her hand on his face. "I'm sure," she said gently. Pulling his face down, their lips met.

**All reviews appreciated, I like to know whose reading! Thank you!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Writing is a little bit of a struggle at the moment, so feedback is appreciated for improvement. **

Arthur blinked as Ariadne's lips met his. He immediately tightened his arm around her, and pulled her closer.

After a few moments, they pulled apart. Arthur looked at Ariadne; her expression was reluctant.

"Um..." she swallowed, clearly trying to think of something coherent to say. He looked at the floor, then at her. "I..." words were failing him.

Then, they both started to laugh. Ariadne sank onto the couch, and within seconds, Arthur was settled next to her.

"I'm sorry!" Ariadne choked out. "I don't know what came over me!"

Arthur leaned forward. "The scent of my aftershave?" he said, smiling. He paused, and looked at her. "Ari..." cupping her chin in his hand, he drew her closer. Their lips met again. His hand caressed her cheek; she responded by letting him pull her into an embrace.

"This is-" she swallowed. "I go on a date with Robert, and I end up-" she blushed, and looked at him. "Please don't think I'm forward!"

Arthur blinked. "Ari, I'm glad you did that. Because I was wondering if I'd be seen as forward if I tried to kiss you, especially after the way I gatecrashed your date with Robert!"

She began to laugh, and visibly relaxed. "Arthur, the guy's an octopus!" She shuddered at the memory. Arthur frowned. The look of smug satisfaction in Robert's face as he'd laid his hand possessively on her thigh was burned into his memory. "What do you think he's going to be like tomorrow?"

Arthur shrugged. "Who knows? Who cares?" He looked at her. "I only wish I'd tipped something stronger than my ice cream over him!"

She smiled. "The look on his face..." Arthur stretched a hand out across the back of the couch, and she began to cuddle up. Arthur smiled, remembering the look of shock on the older man's face. "He had it coming," Arthur said, grinning.

Ariadne looked at him. "He's annoyed you before?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Pretty hard not to be annoyed with someone who makes it very clear that his job is something he does to keep access to his trust fund." He shook his head. "Robert doesn't need to work, and loves to rub it in." He turned to her. "But, lets not talk about him." He swallowed, and checked his watch. "Its half eleven, and I was thinking...you can have my bed, and I'll crash on the couch."

She looked at him, slightly taken aback. "OK, if you're sure."

"I am," he insisted. Then he took her hands. "Ari, I really-" he took a deep breath, afraid he was beginning to sound trite. "I think you're terrific, and I can't believe how lucky I am that you're here with me. But, I really want to do things the right way. Take you for dinner, and then..."

They kissed again. Ariadne pulled back. "Thank you," she breathed.

* * *

><p>Arthur took a deep breath. He and Ariadne had both been up half an hour earlier than normal, in order for him to drive her back to her apartment. He'd reasoned that if she turned up to work in the clothes she'd worn the previous night, the gossip grapevine would be hotter than a barbecue grill within ten minutes. He was standing under the shower, rinsing himself. She'd let herself out of the car, and turned to him, shyly.<p>

"So," she'd said.

"So," he repeated, his mind slowly going blank. Then he found his voice. "Tomorrow? Dinner? I promise not to bring an audience with me!"

She smiled. "Sounds great." Leaning over, they kissed gently, before she hopped out, heading for the main door.

He lathered up the shampoo, and started to smile.

* * *

><p>Arthur walked into the staff lounge, and headed straight for the coffee machine. He could afford to spend a few minutes in there, before he greeted the pile of paperwork in his office.<p>

"Artie!"

He groaned. Eames. The Drama teacher was practically hanging over the back of one of the couches, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. He looked at him. "Yes, Eames?"

"Yes, Eames?" The British man pouted slightly. "You tip a bowl of ice cream over Fischer, rescue the fair damsel in distress, and waltz off into the sunset, and all you can say is 'Yes, Eames?'!"

Arthur put his mug under the dispenser of the coffee machine. "Well, what do you want me to say?" He looked at him.

"Any jobs?" Eames grinned.

"What?" Arthur looked slightly confused.

"Oh, you know, Artie, things like hand jo-"

"Eames!" Arthur went scarlet. "How dare you! No, nothing like that!" He shook his head, and picked up the mug. "I'll have you know that it wasn't like that. It was very-"

"Sweet?" Eames was grinning. "Romantic?"

Arthur nodded, beginning to smile. "Yes. It was."

"Well, good to know." Eames slumped back on the couch. "I was beginning to think you were a robot, Arthur."

Stung, Arthur turned to him. "I'm not. I've got feelings, Eames. But so has she. And I-" suddenly, he blinked. His assistant, Mark, was standing in front of him.

"Arthur, I've been trying to call you," the PA hissed. "Where have you been?"

Arthur blinked. "Getting up, driving here. Why?"

"You need to go to Dom's office." Mark bit his lip. "Right away."

Arthur looked at the coffee, cooling in his hand. "OK." He handed the mug to Mark. "Put this in my office, will you? Thanks."

Mark nodded. "Sure thing."

Arthur hurried to Cobb's office, pulling his suit jacket on as he did so. As he knocked on the door, his eyes narrowed. Through the frosted pane of glass, he could see another shape inside.

One that looked suspiciously like one of the District officials.

Swallowing, he pushed the door open. Cobb stood up.

"Arthur!" he greeted him, pleasantly. "Come in. You know Michael Davis, don't you?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I do." He turned to him. "What brings you here, Mike?"

Davis shuffled his feet, and looked embarrassed. "Art, this is really embarrassing. We've had an official complaint made to us, about you."

Arthur's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Yes." Mike nodded. "A complaint that you used an acceptable level of physical violence against another member of staff."

"I what?" Arthur's eyes widened. "Who made the complaint?"

Davis swallowed. "Robert Fischer. Claims you assaulted him and caused public embarrassment. Now, I'm going to have to investigate-" he said this quickly, as though he were expecting Arthur to argue - "so I'm afraid there is something we're going to have to do."

Arthur's mind was racing. "What's that?" he asked, his voice suddenly sounding faint.

Davis looked embarrassed, and guilty. "Suspend you from your position of Vice Principal. Effective immediately."

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur looked at Davis and Cobb, his jaw dropping. "Suspended?"

Davis nodded. "Yes. From your duties as Vice Principal. For the time being, you will be expected to carry out the duties of a normal classroom teacher." He swallowed. "Mrs Mallorie Cobb will take over your VP duties."

Arthur shook his head. "You can't do this." He looked at Davis. "This is a jumped up charge, by a-"

"Arthur!" Davis shook his head. "Please, don't say anything. You will be questioned by a member of the District." He nodded at Cobb. "Thanks Dom." He hurried out.

Arthur turned to Cobb, his eyes blazing. "Well?"

Cobb looked at him. "Art, I don't like this-"

"You're not exactly standing up for me though, are you?" Arthur sounded angry, and embarrassed. "You saw what he was doing in the restaurant! He had his hands all over her!"

Cobb swallowed. "Arthur. Calm down. Yes, I did see. But, Ariadne's an adult. Not a child. If she was offended by Robert, she should have told him. She didn't need you to defend her honour!"

Arthur looked at him. "I just can't stand to see a woman mistreated!"

"You mean you couldn't stand that Robert could have got their first!" Cobb retorted. "You couldn't bear that he asked her out, so you got us to gatecrash their date, and then you dumped ice cream in his lap." He glared at Arthur. "You've tangled with someone who won't let you forget it!"

Arthur rubbed his face. "Dom, what have I done?"

Cobb bit his lip. "I think you've just put your career in jeopardy because of a woman," he said gently. "I hope you like her, and this isn't just macho posturing." He exhaled, slowly. "Now, Arthur. I need to find Mal...and let her know she'll be doing your job for a while."

Speechless, Arthur turned and left Cobb's office.

* * *

><p>Ariadne walked to the Art room. Her heart felt light, and she smiled as she unlocked the door. A shadow fell across - a tall, thin one. Smiling, she turned her face upwards. Her smile froze as she saw Robert Fischer.<p>

"Hello," she said, uncertainly.

"Ariadne," Fischer said, pleasantly. "I hope you enjoyed last night. Very interesting - I take a woman out to dinner, and she leaves with someone else."

Her face began to flush. Biting her lip, she looked at him. "I-"

"Oh, don't bother," Fischer said, kindly. He smiled at her. "There's a name for young women like you. But as there are minors around, I won't embarrass you by saying it."

Her jaw dropping, Ariadne stared at him. Fischer smiled, smugly.

"Oh, I wouldn't look for Arthur to save you," he said, as he turned and left. "He's in a lot of trouble." Chuckling, he walked down the corridor, leaving the Art specialist staring after him, slack jawed.

* * *

><p>Arthur unlocked the door to his apartment, and threw his suit jacket over the back of one of the chairs. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so relieved to get to the end of the day. Heading to the liquor cabinet, he poured himself a scotch. Flinging himself into a chair, he began to sip at it.<p>

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Groaning, he pulled himself to his feet. Setting the glass on the table, he peered through the keyhole.

Ariadne.

His heart sank. He'd managed to avoid her all day - even going so far as just grabbing a sandwich and eating it in the music room at lunch. But now, she was knocking on his door, and he had no choice but to answer it. Swallowing, he opened the door.

"Ari, I-"

"Whats going on?" she demanded, making no pretence at social niceties. "Fischer told me you were in trouble, you've been avoiding me and everyone else all day! What is going on?"

Arthur looked at her. "Have a seat." He slumped back in his chair, and picked up the scotch. "Fischer has made a complaint against me. About me assaulting him in the restaurant."

Ariadne sucked in her breath. "What?"

"Yeah," Arthur said, tonelessly. "I'm in trouble for tipping ice cream in his lap."

"And what happened?"

"I have been suspended from my VP duties," He said. He took a swallow of scotch.

"Arthur, you-" her voice broke off, and he looked at her. "What?"

"I've been suspended from my VP duties for throwing ice cream over Robert!" he repeated. He looked at her. "I shouldn't have crashed your date, and been such a jealous je-"

He stopped. Ariadne was kissing him, softly. He swallowed, and blinked. "Wow."

"Thought you needed it," she said, gently. Then she started to look more serious. "Arthur, it will be ok. You can get through this, I know you can."

He leaned back. "I hope you're right," he sighed. "I really hope so."

She bit her lip, deciding to keep Robert's taunts to herself. Getting up, she kissed his forehead, and showed herself out.

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. I like to know who is reading this - thank you!**


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the hiatus!**

Arthur rubbed his face, and then peered at himself in the mirror. He groaned. He looked tired, and also, he thought ruefully, slightly hungover. After Ariadne had left, he might have had a scotch. Or three.

He turned on the water for the shower, and hauled himself into it. He had to accept it - he was demoted. Sliding down the career ladder. Even if he was cleared of assault, he wouldn't be able to escape it completely. It was a permanent blotch on his record.

He let the water cascade down his back, and then soaped himself. As for Ariadne coming round...he felt his heart contract.

Arthur had to admit it - he liked her. Really liked her. But he had gatecrashed her date, and he had tipped ice cream over Robert.

_Why didn't you just ask her out first? _His mind screamed at him. Rinsing the last of his shampoo from his scalp, he turned off the faucet, and reached for his towel.

* * *

><p>The drive to work that morning was too quick, Arthur decided. He would have given anything for another ten minutes, to cushion him from confronting the students and faculty at Fox. But, he mused, he had to get there eventually.<p>

He pulled into a parking space, and reached inside the dashboard to disconnect his iPod. He looked at it, and sighed. Alice In Chains had not been the best choice for the morning's drive. Layne Staley's mournful voice had not improved his move. Sighing, he unlocked the car door, put his iPod in his suit pocket, and made his way to the trunk of the car. As he unlocked it and opened it up, he heard a voice.

"Mr Ogilvie!"

He turned. One of his students was approaching him. He swallowed, feeling nervous. What if she wanted to tell him she'd heard the rumours already? He took a deep breath, and turned to face her.

"Bethany," he said, smiling pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering if you'd marked our assignments?"

Arthur blinked. He hadn't. His mind had been so consumed with the situation regarding Robert. Biting his lip, he turned to one of his most hard working Twelth graders.

"I haven't," he admitted. "I'm really sorry."

Bethany looked slightly crushed, but then picked herself up. "Oh, its fine, Mr Ogilvie," she said, smiling. "I mean, you do two jobs!"

Arthur nodded, turning his head to hide his embarrassment. Not only was he useless as a VP, he thought, miserably, but he wasn't even doing his expected duties as a classroom teacher either.

* * *

><p>Ariadne squared her shoulders, and headed up the stairs. She knew she was taking a risk, but she had to try. It was the least she felt she could do.<p>

Swallowing, she knocked on Cobb's door. "Yes?" came the response. Opening it, she saw that he was with Mal. The elegant woman, got up, smiling, "why, bonjour, ma petite" she said, obviously glad of the opportunity to use her own fluent french. "Ca va?"

Ariadne shook her head. "Non, madame."

Mal creased her forehead in surprise and concern, and Cobb looked slightly uncomfortable. "Ariadne, come in, and have a seat," he said. As she shut the door, he sat down, and waited for his wife and colleague to take theirs. "I take it this is about Arthur?"

She nodded. "Yes." She took a deep breath, and looked at the Principal. "Please, its my fault. I shouldn't have gone out with Robert, and I know he shouldn't have tipped ice cream over him-"

"Ariadne!" Cobb held up his hands. "There's a lot of shouldn'ts and wouldn'ts in this tale. All that stands is that Robert has filed a complaint against my Vice Principal. And yes, he shouldn't have gatecrashed your date, and no, he shouldn't have thrown ice cream over him."

She shook her head. "No."

"It should have been his espresso."

Blinking, Ariadne looked up at Cobb. His blue eyes were twinkling, and so were Mal's. Ariadne started to smile. "I guess you approved as well?"

"I did." Cobb leaned over. "Trust me, I couldn't bear to see Fischer pawing at you like that - it was completely disrespectful, and I know that Arthur's nuts about you." Ariadne blushed, and Cobb coughed. "But, Fischer has filed a complaint, and as his father is very influential throughout the community, and I know is also good friends with the Superintendent-" he bit his lip - "my hands are tied."

"But, Arthur's going to win, isn't he?" Ariadne protested. Cobb looked at her. "I have no idea," he said, honestly. "But I can promise you this - I'm going to let Arthur tell the staff that there's been a change." He nodded. "I'm not going to go behind his back."

Getting up, Ariadne nodded. As she made her way to the door, she regretted going on a date with Robert even more.

* * *

><p>Arthur swallowed, and stood up in front of the staff. He'd been pulled into Cobb's office that morning, and been told, simply, that he had to let the staff know.<p>

As he stood at the front of the teacher's lounge, he felt all eyes on him. He noted that some, like Ariadne and Eames' were sypmathetic, but he also knew that Robert's were full of triumph. He took a deep breath.

"Um, I'd like to inform you all of something." He swallowed, hoping his voice wouldn't crack. "Due to the fact I'm taking on more teaching duties due to Tom's illness, I'm handing over my responsibility as Vice Principal to Mallorie Cobb."

He heard a slight gasp, but ignored it. "I hope that you'll give her the same respect co-operation as you gave me."

He closed his mouth, and felt himself blush scarlet. Then, conscious of all eyes being on him, he hurried out of the room.

* * *

><p>Ariadne waited in her classroom for her first class. As they entered, she strained her eyes, seeing if she could catch any snippets of gossip about Arthur.<p>

The Ninth graders entered relatively calmly, and took their seats. As she smiled at them, they nodded, and smiled back. Then one spoke. "Ms Henderson?"

She paused. "Yes, Jeff?"

"Are you going to show us how to paint a still life today?"

She exhaled with relief. "Of course. Now, lets start mixing your palettes!"

* * *

><p>Arthur twisted a pencil as he waited for his Twelth graders. As they entered, he already guessed something was up. They came in cautiously, and a couple of them threw knowing looks at him.<p>

"Please sit down," Arthur said, politely. To his relief, they complied. He cleared his throat, and began to address them. "Now, about your assignments. I'm afraid I haven't marked them."

There was a slight murmur. Arthur decided to ignore it and pressed on.

"However, I will have marked them in time for the next class. So, if you-"

"Mr Ogilvie?" One student interrupted. He swallowed, and looked at him. "Yes, Joe?"

"Is it true-" the boy paused, as though Arthur were a dangerous animal he might provoke - "is it true that you're no longer Vice Principal? For the moment?"

Arthur felt his heart sink. He realised he couldn't deny it. "Um, yes Joe. It is," he admitted.

Joe nodded, then leaned forward again. "is it also true-" he swallowed - "that its because you threw ice cream at Mr Fischer?"

Arthur felt his heart sink even lower. "Um, who told you that?"

"Mr Eames."

Arthur gritted his teeth. _Eames. You're fired!_ he ranted in his mind. "Um, what did Mr Eames tell you?" he asked, politely.

Joe was still leaning forward, as though he were divulging state protected secrets. "That you and other staff went out for a meal, and Mr Fischer upset Ms Henderson, and you tipped your ice cream in his lap!"

Arthur felt frozen. All eyes were on him. "Um, yes." He admitted. "Thats true."

Suddenly, he blinked. The class were applauding!

"Mr Ogilvie!" Joe said, impressed. "You're the man!"

"What?" Arthur said, looking slightly astounded. "I am!"

Joe nodded, vigorously. "Everyone likes Ms Henderson - she's really cool. And Mr Fischer's a creep!"

Arthur began to grin. "Well, I can't condone that language, Joseph. But I do appreciate the sentiment!"

The group started to laugh, some still applauding. Smiling, Arthur began to write on the board. Perhaps this wouldn't be so difficult, after all.

**All reviews appreciated and read, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur opened the door to the staff lounge, and sighed with relief. No-one else was in there. He hurried in, put his pile of marking on one of the tables, and immediately walked to the coffee machine. As he plugged in 25 cents, he felt himself relax, and smiled as the hot, foamy brew cascaded into the plastic cup. He retrieved it, placed it on the table, and sat down to mark the Twelth graders' assignments.

He pulled the top one of the pile. He picked up his red biro, and began to read it, mentally frowning at some of the small grammatical errors. Crossing through a couple of words, he began to concentrate.

"Arthur!"

He looked up. Eames had just entered, and, unusually, was biting his lip. In fact, Arthur could have sworn he looked nervous. "Arthur, are you-"

"Cut it out, Eames," Arthur interrupted, bending his head over the assignment. "I know what you did."

Eames looked at him, relief beginning to play across his face. "You do?"

"Yes." Arthur put the biro down, folded his arms, and looked at him directly. "I know that you told your students - who then went and told everyone else - that I threw ice cream at Robert. Thanks."

Eames swallowed. "Oh, yes, I did." He nodded. "Yes."

"In fact," Arthur continued, "I should thank you. Apparently, I'm now 'The Man'."

Eames snorted. "Impossible."

"Oh really?" Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because thats me." Eames retrieved cup of tea from the machine, and sat opposite the younger man. He took a sip and grimaced. "Disgusting."

"It will be if you put four sugars in it," Arthur said. "If Dracula bit you, he'd get diabetes."

"Forget Dracula. I'd rather it was Bella Swann." Eames took another sip, and grimaced further. "Anyway. Congratulations. Ariadne thinks you're her knight in shining armour, the students think you're the man, the Faculty think you're actually human." Eames looked at him, and smiled. "Well done."

There was an undertone to the Drama specialists' words that Arthur noticed. A hint of unease, of trying to be too positive. He leaned back, and looked at him. Eames took another sip of tea, and cleared his throat.

"I think it was incredibly stupid, extremely reckless, and completely out of character." He met Arthur's eyes. "There are easier ways to make someone realise that you like them."

Arthur bit his lip. "Agreed." He sighed. "I have no idea how this is going to pan out. I could-"

Suddenly, the door to the lounge opened, and Summer, Cobb's PA, put her head round the door.

"Oh, Arthur! There you are!" She swallowed. "I've been looking for you!"

Arthur looked at her. Cobb's PA was sweet, but somewhat ditzy. He smiled. "I'm here."

She nodded. "Right. You need to see Dom. Right away."

"But-" Arthur bit back his irritation. He still had the grading to finish. Sighing, he got up. "OK."

Eames sipped his tea. "See you later."

Arthur followed Summer to Cobb's office. As she opened the door, his breath caught in his throat.

Cobb was there. With Fischer. And the Superintendent. As she opened the door, she patted his shoulder, as thought trying to convey sympathy.

"Arthur!" Cobb stood up. "Please, do come in."

Arthur nodded. As he walked over the threshold, he caught Robert's smirk. He felt a rush of anger, but swallowed, and tried to remain composed.

* * *

><p>"Ms Henderson?"<p>

Ariadne looked up. Her Twelth Grade Fine Art class was leaving. She smiled at Bethany and Jess, two of her hardest working and most dedicated students. "Yes, girls?"

Bethany cleared her throat. "Ms Henderson, we're aware that Mr Ogilvie has been suspended from being Vice Principal, and we are starting a petition."

Ariadne's eyes widened. "A petition?"

Jess nodded. "Yes. What he did to Mr Fischer - it wasn't life threatening!" She showed a clipboard to the Art specialist. On it was a piece of paper, which had already picked up ten signatures from students. Jess swallowed. "Mr Ogilvie should be re-instated."

Ariadne bit her lip, trying to hide her smile. "Well, I don't think I can sign it," she said, noting the way the two students' faces fell, "but thats because I'm on the Faculty. But, I really think you should distribute it around the school."

Bethany smiled. "Thank you."

The two girls turned, and left. Ariadne bit her lip, wondering how Arthur was. She hadn't see him all day, and realised that she would have to approach him soon. Looking up at the clock, she saw it was nearly 2pm. Another half hour, and she'd catch him at the end of the day.

* * *

><p>The Superintendent eyeballed Arthur across the room, allowing a torturous silence to open up. Arthur swallowed, and looked at the older man. He cleared his throat.<p>

"I do appreciate, Arthur, that this may seem unfair." His tone was soothing, as though Arthur were an unruly child. "But the school district has its reputation to think of. What you did to Robert was technically assault, and we cannot allow this."

Arthur opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Cobb caught his eye, and Arthur noted the distress that was there. The Superintendent turned to Robert. "Robert would you care to explain how you feel?"

Robert cleared his throat. "Well, its all been very distressing," he said, his voice trembling. "I just took a colleague out for a friendly meal, and Arthur shows such hostility, and such anger!" He turned to the Superintendent. "I'm sure you appreciate its been very hard for me. I haven't been able to concentrate on my work, which makes me feel incompetent, and that distresses me further." He sniffled, and Arthur felt his blood pressure shoot up. His lip trembled, and he slumped. "Oh God!"

Cobb and Arthur exchanged glances. Arthur knew that they were silently agreeing that Fischer should win an Oscar.

The Superintendent cleared his throat again. "Well, Arthur, I think you appreciate the seriousness of this. Robert is clearly feeling hurt and intimidated by your behaviour. So, in my capacity as Superintendent, I'm going to override Dom's decision." Cobb stared, his jaw dropping. "I hereby declare you are completely suspended from your post until the investigation is completed." Arthur blinked, and felt his insides collapse.

"Completely suspended?" His voice was barely a whisper.

The Superintendent nodded. "Completely. Please gather what you need, and vacate the school premises. Dom?" Cobb looked up. "Would you escort Arthur out?"

Cobb nodded, and got up. As though he were in a dream, Arthur began to move out of his seat, and into the corridor.

* * *

><p>Ariadne finished cleaning her brushes, and put them in the pot she used. Looking at the clock, she saw it was 2.30pm. Swallowing, she locked the door, and hurried to Arthur's office.<p>

To her astonishment, she saw him walking down the corridor, holding a box. Next to him was Cobb.

"Arthur!" Ariadne was shocked. "What's happened?"

"Full suspension," Arthur said. His tone was grim.

"They can't do this!" Ariadne choked, aghast.

"Oh, they can," Cobb said, bitterly. "Fischer's father is a friend of the District Superintendent."

"Arthur!" Ariadne looked at him. "You can't take this lying down!"

Arthur swallowed, and looked at her. "Don't worry. I'm not."

Ariadne nodded, remembering the petition. "Good. Because I'm going to make sure nobody else does!"

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. I like to know who is reading this - thank you!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur sighed as he turned over. Suddenly, his alarm erupted into a series of piercing bleeps. Groaning, he reached his hand out, and slapped it. Silence.

He stretched, letting his thoughts assemble before he attempted to get up. It was Thursday. Thursday meant a morning meeting with Cobb, then a free to catch up on admin, then the Twelth graders, then-

Suddenly, he remembered. He had no meeting. No class. Nowhere to go.

Arthur rolled over, and burrowed back into the bed. No point in getting up. He closed his eyes, hoping to be able to drift back to sleep. Maybe, when he woke up, he'd be back in Fox High.

Back in his normal life.

* * *

><p>Ariadne carefully unlocked the door of the art room. She'd arrived especially early, the students' petition in her bag. Carefully picking up a cloth, she began to wipe down the benches, still splattered with paint from the previous day.<p>

"Ariadne?"

She turned. Cobb was standing in the doorway, his expression inscrutable. She nodded, and then continued to wipe. He took a step in the room, and opened his mouth.

"You need to listen to me," he said, his voice calm. "I had nothing to do with this decision. Nothing. But it is reversible. Once the investigation is conducted, and Arthur's cleared, he can come back. It really is that simple."

She bit her lip, and paused. "But what if he's not cleared?" She placed the cloth on the table, and turned to face Cobb. "What if the District think he's not fit to teach because of this? It could happen." She exhaled slowly. "And, lets face it, this will go on his reference."

Cobb blinked. Ariadne suddenly realised that he was not used to being spoken to in the tone she'd employed. She made eye contact, refusing to back down.

Cobb swallowed. "Yes," he said, quietly. Turning, he walked out of the room, leaving her speechless.

* * *

><p>Arthur blinked, and looked at the clock. A few minutes to 9.<p>

_9!_ He rubbed his eyes. It couldn't be nearly 9am. Normally, he was up before 7am on weekdays, and easily before 8am on weekends. But today, he'd slept.

He sunk back into the bed, letting the soft pillows hug the sides of his face. He sighed slowly. The bed was warm, and tempting. He could, he decided, stay in it for most of the day.

He rolled onto his side, feeling the mattress dent under his weight. He looked at the bedside table. On it was a paperback novel that he'd been reading for weeks. He leaned over, and picked it up.

Opening it, he blinked. He realised that he couldn't remember the plotline, or the characters. Biting his lip, he turned to the front page. He'd have to read it from the beginning. Except, he mused, rubbing his chin, it would go so much better with a cup of coffee. Smiling, he pushed back the covers, and headed for the shower.

* * *

><p>Eames hurried across the staff lounge, trying to catch Ariadne before she left. She was vigorously stirring a cup of white coffee and trying to avoid eye contact with everyone. She looked up as Eames came over.<p>

"Morning," he said, conversationally. She nodded. "Hi."

"Have you," he paused, seemingly unsure of what to say. "Heard from Arthur?"

She shook her head. "No." She'd been wrestling over whether to try and contact him that morning, and had decided it would be a bad move. She pulled the plastic stirrer out of the cup and dropped it in the trash. Cobb walked past, and smiled tightly as he did so. She dropped her gaze.

"What is it?" Eames asked, biting his lip.

"He came and found me this morning," she said, lowering her voice. "This-" she stopped. "Lets talk after school," she whispered. The drama specialist nodded, and she quickly slipped out of the door.

* * *

><p>Arthur hummed to himself as he towelled dry. The shower had been invigorating, and he pushed his damp hair out of his eyes as he surveyed the contents of his closet. His suits were hanging there almost as a reproach.<p>

He swallowed. Today he had no reason to wear them. Biting his lip, he reached for a pair of black levis that he kept at the back of the closet. They had been a birthday gift from Mal, who had smiled when she'd handed them over. Arthur was speechless that she'd got his size right.

"Oh, I have my ways," she'd twinkled. He took them off the hanger, and pulled them on. They clung to his legs, and at first he felt self conscious about them. But then, he realised, they accentuated his narrow waist, and drew attention to his torso.

He felt himself flush slightly. Opening a drawer, he grabbed a t-shirt, and pulled it over his head. He ran his fingers through his hair, deciding not to gel it. Leaning over to his bedside unit, he grabbed the novel, and slid his wallet into his back pocket. He then left the bedroom, walked through the apartment, and headed for the nearest coffee shop, easily a block away.

Life without school, he thought as he walked along, could be ok. There were clearly other things to do that disciplining students and wading through paperwork. Things like reading, and music. He entered the coffee shop, letting the door swing shut behind him. He read through the choices on the board. Latte, mocha, cappuccino-

"Mr Ogilvie?"

He blinked. The barista behind the counter was a young woman with blonde dreadlocks, and he realised, a pierced lip. Suddenly, his eyes widened - she'd graduated from Fox a couple of years previously. He remembered her well - she'd frequently turned up wearing skimpy tops that displayed tattoos, or tried to dye her hair. He blushed slightly. It seemed really silly now.

"Alys?" He smiled at her. "How are you?"

"Studying fine art," she said, as she picked up the metal milk jug. "And working here." She nodded at him. "Whats with you? What happened to the suit? And shouldn't you be at work?"

He swallowed. "Oh, I'm on a sabbatical. I'm trying to-" he paused, and then blurted out - "trying to set up my own practice. As a music teacher."

"Wow!" She looked impressed. "Didn't think you even liked music! You always used to wander round as though you had a stick up your ass!" Suddenly, she seemed to remember who she was talking to, and went scarlet.

He smiled. "Its ok. A cappuccino, please." And, he realised, it was ok. He thought of the humourless character he'd been, and shuddered.

She nodded. "Right away!" Arthur turned, and settled himself in one of the arm chairs, and opened his novel. But he didn't glance at it. An idea was forming. An idea for how he could carve out a life, after Fox.

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. I like to know who is reading this - thank you!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Eames knocked on the door of the Art room, and paused as he saw that Ariadne was in conversation with a student. He decided to wait, patiently, rather than interrupt them. Their voices were low, and concerned about being viewed as an eavesdropper, he moved away to stand further outside the door.

As he hovered near the entrance, he spotted Robert. Who was strolling down the empty corridor as though he didn't possess a care in the world. Eames raised an eyebrow. "Robert. Hello."

"Well, hello Eames," came the response, laced with an arrogance that always irritated the older man. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Eames responded, seeing that there was no way out of this banal exchange that masked what the two men wanted to discuss. "And you're looking very well for a man reportedly suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder."

Robert smiled. " I know. And trust me, Eames, when the investigation's completed, I'll be even better."

Eames quickly glanced round him to make sure no-one else was approaching, and then took a step forward. He lowered his voice, and looked fixedly at Robert.

"What are you playing at, mate?" he asked, his tone low. "Do you really think there's anything to be gained by this? Why don't you go to Cobb, and tell him the truth - you were harrassing Ariadne, and thats what made Arthur react. I saw it. Mal saw it. And Cobb saw it. Do the right thing - put it in writing, and then thats it, game over, and you and Arthur can stay away from each other - jobs pemitting."

Robert arched an eyebrow. His light blue eyes glittered in the fluroscent lighting. "No. And shall I tell you why? Because I don't want to. See you later, Eames."

He turned, and began to walk up the corridor. Eames stared after him, silently seething. Suddenly, the door to the Art room swung wide open, and Ariadne came out, followed by the student.

"Well, thats great Jess," she said, sincerely. "Lets hope for a few more signatures tomorrow!"

Eames looked at the two with interest. "Signatures?"

"A petition," the twelth grader said by way of explanation. She held up her clipboard; as he looked, Eames noticed at least 30 names signed. "To try and bring back Mr Ogilvie."

"He hasn't actually gone," Eames pointed out, "He's just, uh, resting."

Ariadne bit her lip. "Did you want something, Mr Eames?" she asked, her tone neutral. The student picked up the undertone in her voice and nodded. "Well, I'd better get going. Thanks, Ms Henderson."

"No problem," Ariadne replied. She turned to Eames. "OK. Did you drive today?"

"I did," he said. Then his face cleared. "Oh. We should go and visit-"

"Yes," she said, nodding. She checked her watch. "Its a little after three. He should be at home. Let's go!"

* * *

><p><em>Sit and drink pennyroyal tea...<em>

_ Steal the life inside of me..._

Arthur adjusted his guitar strap and grimaced. "That can't be right," he muttered to himself. He bit his lip, and carefully taking the guitar off, moved to his CD rack. He flicked his finger down the carefully filed CDs, stopping when he found Nirvana's _In Utero. _Opening it, he pulled out the lyric booklet, looking for the words he was sure he'd just mangled.

He'd been playing the guitar for most of the afternoon. After a latte, and half an hour sitting with a novel, he'd headed back, done the laundry, and tidied up the apartment - which meant putting a few clothes in drawers and stacking some papers. Then he'd gone to the spare room, which he never showed to guests. Inside was his guitar, a stack of music magazines, and notebooks, containing scrawled bits of lyrics, some random compositions, and press clippings. A sign of another life - a life he sometimes wondered if he should have pursued.

He rubbed his face. Getting up, he let Kurt Cobain's mournful voice fill the room as he walked into the kitchen. He put water in a cup, heated it in the microwave, then dropped in a peppermint tea bag. After waiting a few seconds, he pulled it out, and dropped it in the trash. Picking it up, he walked back into the lounge, taking in the harsh, raw beauty of Cobain's voice.

He pulled out his notebook. _Private music teacher_, it said on the first clear page. He could still teach, he could indulge his passion for music. But it would be an irregular income, and as much as Arthur hated to admit it, he did enjoy the little luxuries and stable lifestyle his current salary permitted him. But-

The sudden shrill bleep of the intercom broke into his thoughts. He blinked, and getting up, pressed the button to the small, sleek device. "Hello?"

"Arthur? Ariadne."

Arthur swallowed. "Hi. Come on up."

* * *

><p>Eames had been silent as he'd driven to Arthur's apartment. A couple of times he'd glanced at Ariadne, but said nothing. She'd not initiated conversation, as her mind was too concerned with what would happen when she saw Arthur. Then, Eames did speak.<p>

"I hope he's not crying when we get there," he commented. She looked at him, in surprise. "Why would he be?"

"Well, its just I always get the impression the job is his life," the British man continued. "That thats all he has. So, take that away from him...I'm just worried we'll encounter an empty shell."

Ariadne shook head. "Thats a little over-dramatic."

Eames raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me. I'm a drama teacher." He turned the car, and they began to drive up the road leading to Arthur's apartment block. "I'm just warning you he could be in a bit of a state."

Ariadne shook her head. "I've never seen Arthur out of control," she said, stubbornly.

Eames gave her a sharp glance. "That may be, but he's never been suspended on a trumped up charge and facing the prospect of his career disappearing before his eyes."

She bit her lip. Feelings of guilt were bubbling up, threatening to consume her previously rational thoughts. "Listen, you don't have to come upstairs. I'll go on my own."

Eames looked at the road, but his mouth quirked into a sly grin. "Fair enough. I won't ask why!"

* * *

><p>Arthur opened the door, and met the Art specialist's eyes. He smiled. "Hi. Come on in."<p>

She blinked. This wasn't what she'd been expecting. Arthur wasn't tear stained, or seemingly depressed. He looked..._relaxed. _Nodding mutely, she walked into the apartment.

"Tea? Coffee? Water?" He asked, politely. She nodded again. "Water, please."

Arthur smiled. "Have a seat, Ari." She wandered over to the cream coloured sofa, and sat down. Nirvana were still playing, their songs changing from delicate introspection to noisy garage rock. "Arthur," she asked, not wanting to reveal her musical ignorance, "who is this?"

"Nirvana," he called out from the kitchen. "I was ten when _Nevermind _was released, but I think this album is better. More aggressive. More emotion." He emerged, carrying a glass of ice water, which he handed to her. "Its still a shame about Kurt." He settled himself next to her. She nodded, unsure of what to say.

"So," he said, conversationally, "what can I do for you?"

Ariadne took a sip of water. "I came to show you something," she said, and reaching into the bag she'd dropped on the floor by her feet, pulled out the clipboard. As she handed it to Arthur, she scrutinised his face, watching to see his reaction. "Ariadne, this is...? What...?"

"Its a petition," she said, quickly. "One of my students, and one of your students, had the idea. They are on your side Arthur. They think its outrageous you've been suspended for this!"

Arthur swallowed, and carefully laid the petition on the coffee table. "Ariadne, this is really sweet of them, and of you," he said, slowly, "but the more I think about it...the more I don't want to go back to Fox."

She stared at him, her jaw dropping. He flushed, as though he'd told her a dark, dirty secret. "Well, thats fine," she flustered, "but I-"

"No, don't just leave!" he said, as she made motions to get up. "Stay, and hear me out! I've started thinking of alternative careers, other things I can do." He looked at her. "I don't have to spend the rest of my life in an office, strutting about, telling other people what to do!"

"But, Arthur," Ariadne protested, her face growing flushed, "I thought you weren't going to take this lying down!"

"But I'm not!" he said, smiling. "I'm using this as an opportunity!"

She sank back on the couch, and covered her face. "Oh, I'm sorry." She looked up at him. "I feel this is-"

"What?" He sat down next to her, and placed his hand on hers. "You feel what?"

"That this is my fault." She looked at him, directly. "I shouldn't have gone out with Robert, I shouldn't have-"

"And I shouldn't have gate crashed your date and thrown ice cream over him," Arthur finished, and sighed. "I was being macho. And jealous. I should have just asked you out when I had the chance."

She smiled, slightly. "You still can."

He took her chin in his hand, and returned her smile. "Thank you." Leaning over, he kissed her. She responded, and they fell back on the couch. After a few seconds, she pulled back slightly. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he said, smiling. "We need to talk. Stay for dinner?"

She nodded. "Yes."

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

"Um, would you hand me those carrots?"

Ariadne nodded, and presented them to Arthur. They were both standing in his sleek, shiny kitchen - which she noted was carefully ornamented with all the latest appliances. A sparkling espresso machine. A carefully poised smoothie blender. Arthur was standing at the butcher's block, carefully dissecting peppers. Ariadne cleared her throat, slightly nervously. He looked up. "What's wrong?"

"Is there anything I can do to help?" her tone was courteous, polite, a reminder that she was in his space, and prepared to adapt herself accordingly.

"Well..." Arthur paused. "You could wash the lettuce. Its in a bag, on the bottom of the refrigerator.

She bent down, and opened it. As she did so, he wondered for a brief moment if he'd deliberately engineered it so he could look at her. Blushing at his own implied crudeness, he lowered his head, and concentrated on trimming the vegetables. She stood up, and began to unpick the bag's tie, proceeding to empty the contents into a clean metal colander.

For a few moments, neither spoke. The silence was punctuated by the brief sharp clicks of the knife, an insistent tapping against the wooden board. After another few seconds, he lifted it and deftly scraped the vegetables into a stainless steel pan. She finished with the lettuce, and wandered over.

"Anything else?"

He paused, and smiled. "Trying to make yourself useful?" His tone was almost teasing, and she found herself beginning to relax. She nodded. "Absolutely."

"Well..." he looked at her. "If you really want to make yourself useful, you could open the wine. Its also in the fridge." He turned his attention to the pan, gently prodding the vegetables, now simmering in oil.

She pulled the bottle out, and found a corkscrew. The sheer comfortable domesticity of the situation was soothing, comfortable. She decided to speak.

"I had an interesting class with my Ninth graders today," she began, and noticed Arthur's eyebrow raise.

"Really?" His voice was calm. "What happened?"

"Well, I was getting them to paint themselves, as they see themselves-"

"Kind of dangerous, don't you think?"

She blinked. His tone had been almost abrupt. "What do you mean?"

"Well, letting teenagers paint themselves as they see them. I guarantee you will have one girl who paints herself as obese, even thought she's as thin as a twig. I guarantee you'll have one who sees himself as some gangster type. Its just asking for-" He looked up, and saw her face. She looked worried, and he bit his lip.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry." He shook his head. "Ariadne, I am sorry. I'm just...not very good at not being a Vice Principal." His expression was genuinely remorseful, and she smiled, trying to ease his discomfort. "Its OK."

"No." He turned and began to turn the stir fry again. "Its not. I'm not paid to be a pompous ass at home."

She blinked. "Is that how you see yourself?"

"Well, its what I've heard people say." He reached for a bowl of chopped chicken, and slid it into the vegetable mix. "Oh, would you mind boiling some water for the pasta?" He turned to her. "Its in the pan."

She nodded, feeling frustrated that every time she was about to go deeper, he cut her off. "They don't all think that, Arthur. You know that."

"They did." He leaned against the hob. "Until I started teaching music, and began to remember who I really am." He bit his lip. "I'm not that guy."

She swallowed, not sure how to proceed. He seemed stubbornly resistant to the idea that his perception was not others. She heard the kettle switch click, and picked it up, dousing the pasta with boiling water. He nodded, lifted it, and put it on the hob. He sighed, and she looked at him.

"Ten minutes."

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, they were seated opposite each other. Ariadne swallowed as she looked at the two pans of food. Arthur nodded. "Please, help yourself."<p>

A few minutes later, they were both sitting with plates of stir fry and pasta, accompanied by glasses of wine. Ariadne took her first bite, and nodded. "This is great, thank you."

He smiled. "I like to cook." He took a bite, and chewed, reflectively. "It relaxes me". He dug his fork in again.

Ariadne swallowed. "Arthur?"

"Mmmm?"

"Are you sure you don't want to come back to Fox?"

He put his fork down, and reached for his wine glass. "Its difficult." He took a sip. "If I go back, Robert will go out of his way to make my life a misery." He shuddered. "You don't know him. He's extremely wealthy, and not afraid to inform everyone about it."

"But its your career!" She looked at him, puzzled. "Are you saying you'll throw your career away?" She shook her head. "This doesn't seem like-"

"Like what?" Arthur's head jerked up, and he looked at her directly. "Like what? Like me? Like good old dependable Arthur, who plays it safe and steady?" He bit his lip, and looked down at the rapidly cooling meal on his plate. "Maybe I want to do something different. Take a risk." He gently shook the glass, letting the light coloured liquid swirl inside it. "Do something else." He took a sip. "Something...rewarding," he finished, looking at his plate.

"But you're letting them bully you out of your job!"

"But it was my fault!" He snapped. "Throwing ice cream at Robert - that was childish!"

"But you were-" she broke off, embarrassed. She sank back. Saying _you were defending me _seemed egotistical. An uncomfortable silence settled on the two of them. She swallowed.

"If its anyone's fault, its mine."

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"I should never have gone on that date with Robert," she said, her face growing flushed. "I mean, he's rich, and he's very good looking, but he did nothing but try and grope me." She looked at Arthur. "You were trying to help me, and I'm not going to let the district destroy your career."

Arthur loosened his grip on his wine glass. "You're going to..." he was speechless. "Ariadne, you don't have to."

"I want to," she said, stubbornly. "Arthur, I -" she broke off, embarrassed, and he swallowed. He looked at her, and his eyes were filled with surprise. "Thank you. Thank you for letting me have a choice, whether I stay in teaching or leave." She shook her head. "Don't mention it." He smiled.

"Well," he said, his voice slightly husky. "Um, I didn't cook this so it would congeal. Would you finish it? I do have dessert."

She smiled. "Sure. What is it?"

He blushed. "Ice cream."

She nodded. "Sounds great." She leaned forward, and put her hand over his. His fingers curled round hers. "Want to share a portion?"

He nodded. "Oh, yes." Leaning forward, their lips met.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the delay with this chapter, and the fact its a little short - I needed to write this one to move the story on. **

Ariadne swallowed as she walked up the steps to J. E. Fox. She knew exactly what she had to do, and who she had to see, but nervousness was beginning to grip her in a paralysing vice.

Arthur had accepted she had to do this, she told herself firmly. She pushed open the main swing doors, and entered. Turning, she headed for the stairs that led to the Principal's office.

* * *

><p>Arthur sighed, and turned over in bed. His eyes blinked open fully as he realised the other side was empty. Groggily, he rubbed his forehead, and began to smile.<p>

The previous night had been wonderful. Dinner, wine, and then, hesitantly, he'd suggested she stay the night. She hadn't refused, and they'd quickly moved to the bedroom. Having stayed up for most of the night, talking, they'd both finally fallen asleep in the early hours. He frowned, looking at the clock - it was 7.30am.

She'd be at work.

Work. Sighing deeply, he cuddled back down into the bed, pulling the duvet up, hoping to block the outside world out.

* * *

><p>Ariadne took a deep breath, and knocked on Cobb's door. She heard his voice. "Come in, please!"<p>

As she opened the door, she saw, to her relief, that he was alone. The Principal was reading through some lists of data, and smiled as she approached.

"Ariadne!" He said, warmly. "Good to see you, take a seat." The petite woman sat down, and licked her top lip. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry, and the words she'd carefully rehearsed seemed to have left her mind. Cobb swivelled in his chair, and smiled at her. "What can I do for you?"

"I..." she felt herself pause. "I would like to talk to you. About Arthur."

Cobb's face fell. "Ariadne, I appreciate that this is an issue thats affecting you, but its not something I can discuss. It is confidential, and that stands."

"I don't want to know what you've said to Arthur," she said, surprised by her own boldness. "I want to talk to you about me making a complaint. Against Robert."

Cobb blinked. "Ari...Arthur's already suspended," he said, gently. "You do realise that what you say could be seen as trying to support him?"

She looked at him. "You mean they could think I'm making it up?"

Cobb nodded. "I'm afraid so." He sighed, and leaned back in his chair. "I'm going to speak to you now, off the record. Schools are a delicate organism. When personal feelings come into it, the results can be absolutely ruinous."

Ariadne bit her lip. "Is that what you think I've done?"

"No," Cobb said, looking at her directly. "But I think a certain male colleague has...and got this blown up and out of proportion. But thats what happens when you have an overwhelming sense of entitlement." He pulled open a desk drawer, and pulled out a small card. "Here's a number I think you should call. Oh, and Ari?"

She'd been getting up to leave. "Yes?"

"When you next speak to Arthur, tell him that he's missed by me. But, and I stress this, do tell him its in the capacity as a friend." Dom looked at her and grinned. "Understand?"

She nodded, feeling relief begin to course through her. "Yes. Yes, I do." She began to leave, her mind starting to focus on what it was she needed to do. Putting the card in her pocket, she opened the door.

As she left the office, she blinked in shock. Robert was standing directly outside. "Ariadne. Hello." His voice was calm, and manner pleasant. She swallowed, feeling uncomfortable, but still nodded. "Robert."

"Hope you had a nice meeting with Cobb," he said, smoothly. "You and I should be having more meetings in the future."

He knocked on the door of the Principal's office. Feeling confused, and a little worried, she hurried down the corridor.

* * *

><p>Cobb looked at Fischer, who was smiling. An oily, unctuous smile.<p>

"Robert," Cobb said guardedly, "what can I do for you?"

Fischer raised an eyebrow. "I have this for you." He produced a creamy white envelope. "This is from the Deputy Superintendent."

Cobb took it, and impatiently ripped it open. As he began to read the contents, his jaw dropped slightly. He looked at Robert.

"This is-" he struggled to find the words. "This is a complete over ruling of my authority-"

Robert smiled, smugly. "It is, isn't it?"

* * *

><p>Arthur poured himself another cup of coffee, and sighed. Life seemed to be animated, with no indication of when it was going to start to move on.<p>

He swallowed. Yesterday, he'd felt empowered, in control of his destiny. Now he felt small, and inconsequential. Picking up the cup, he took a sip, hoping to ward off his increasingly worried thoughts.

* * *

><p>Ariadne looked up as a student entered the Art room. She was on a non-contact period. "Yes?"<p>

"Sorry, Ms Henderson," the freckled eleventh grader said, "but Principal Cobb asked for me to being this round to all the staff." He smiled, apologetically, and she nodded.

"OK Joel. Thank you." Gathering up her keys, she locked the Art room door, and hurried upstairs. The rest of the Faculty were gathered in the main room. Eames nodded her over. "Hello there."

"Any idea what this is about?" she asked, curiously. The older man shrugged. "Haven't the foggiest." He nodded. "Oh, look, here's Dom."

Cobb strode into the room, his facial expression tense. As she looked at him, Ariadne felt a sinking feeling develop in the pit of her stomach. Cobb cleared his throat, the chatter in the room dying down as a result.

"Good afternoon," he said, his tone slightly graver than Ariadne was expecting. "As you're all aware, Arthur is currently away, so I have appointed a new Vice Principal."

Eames and Ariadne exchanged looks. "Mal," Eames whispered. She nodded.

"Robert Fischer."

A gasp went up around the room. Cobb noted it, his face paling. "As of today, Mr Fischer will be in five days a week, and will be responsible for Arthur's workload."

Robert stepped forward. "Thank you, Dom," he said, graciously. "My first duty will be lesson observations." He smiled. "And please let me stress, I expect the teaching to be outstanding. That is all."

He took a step back, and smiled again. Numb with shock, the Faculty did not return it.

"Come back Arthur," Eames muttered. "All is forgiven."

**All reviews appreciated. Thank you!**


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Thank you for all the lovely reviews on the last chapter, means a lot!**

Eames took a deep breath, and smiled at his class. Fifteen eleventh graders sat in front of him, all waiting to listen to him deliver a lesson based around verbal techniques. He smiled, and held up his battered copy of David Mamet's _Oleanna._

"Ok," he asked, sweeping his gaze over the group, and noting that the girls all seemed to melt in their seats as he did so. "Any questions? What do you think of Mamet's use of language in this play? The way he characterises the professor and the student?"

A couple of hands were tentatively raised. Eames nodded. "Yes, Chris?"

"Um, I think what Mamet is trying to do is shock us into realising that people misinterpret things too easily. Quick to take offence."

Eames nodded. "Mmmmm." He paused, wondering if he should make a cryptic reference to Arthur and Fischer, but decided against it. He looked again. "Elise?"

"Well, I think-"

Suddenly, the door opened. In walked Fischer, immaculately clad in a black suit. He nodded. "Mr Eames."

The drama specialist raised his eyebrows. "Mr Fischer."

"Please continue." The new Vice Principal waved a pale, thin hand as he settled himself into a chair at the back of the room. "I would like to observe."

Eames bit his lip. They were supposed to have notification of observations, usually two days in advance. Swallowing, he turned back to the group, and smiled.

"So, what do you think is the key theme of this?" he asked. A few more hands went up. "Yes, Liz?"

"I think its against political correctness," she said, slowly. Eames nodded. "Good thoughts. Any more ideas?"

The class dragged. Normally, drama lessons went exceptionally quickly, but this one seemed to move at the pace of an arthritic slug. Eames was aware that the students were subdued, primarily due to Robert's presence. He was sitting, with his hand propping his chin, icy blue eyes following every movement. Eames swallowed, and turned to face the class again.

"OK!" He spoke, loudly. "Improvisation. I want to you to get into pairs, and think of a situation where an action can be misinterpreted by another."

There was a murmur amongst the students. One student spoke. "Um, what do you mean, Mr Eames?"

"Well," Eames said, reflectively. "How about this. You're in a restaurant. You have a slight disagreement with someone, and you retaliate by accidently tipping your ice cream into their lap."

There was a brief pause, then a giggle started to snake around the class.

"So, how do you think the other person will react?" Eames said, playfully, noting that Robert was beginning to turn even paler. "Would they accept they'd annoyed you to the point where you did this? Or do you think they'd react by claiming it was an act of assault?"

The giggling intensified. One boy, Joel, raised an eyebrow. "You'd have to be pathetic to do that!"

Eames smiled. "I suppose you would be."

He turned. Robert, who was now white with anger, was getting up and leaving the room.

* * *

><p>Arthur sighed, and started strumming his guitair. After a few minutes, he cursed and pulled the strap back over his head.<p>

Nothing seemed to be going right. He had an idea for a song, but it didn't seem to be falling together. With a deep sigh, he slumped in the chair. Suddenly, his cellphone began to vibrate. Exhaling his breath slowly, he reached for it. "Hello?"

"Arthur?" Ariadne's voice floated out of the device. "Arthur, listen to me. Its getting worse. Much worse."

* * *

><p>Eames swallowed. He'd been summoned to Robert's - formerly Arthur's - office. As he walked up the stairs, he had an overwhelming feeling of defiance. He was not, he decided, going to be railroaded or spoken down to by a slimy little man in an expensive suit.<p>

He suddenly smiled. Arthur had worn expensive suits, but he would never have described him as slimy. He knocked on the door. "Come in!"

Eames entered. Robert was already sitting in the chair behind the desk; for a mad moment, Eames thought all he needed was a fluffy white cat to stroke. _Yes, you would have made a perfect Bond villain._

"Eames." Robert smiled, and leaned forward. "I need to talk to you about your conduct in that class this morning."

Eames raised his eyebrows. "My conduct?"

"Yes." Robert narrowed his eyes, and then smiled again. The effect was almost reptilian. "Shall we begin? Or shall I just hand you a written warning first?"

"A...written warning?" Eames choked out. Robert nodded. "Yes. You made blatant reference to the dispute between myself and Arthur." He shook his head. "Very unprofessional. Listen," he said, leaning forward, "I am going to hand you a written warning. And if this happens again, it will go on your reference. Understand?"

Eames blinked, shocked.

"Oh, and don't use Mamet in your lessons. It makes blatant references to sex and crude language."

At that point, Eames snapped.

"Mamet is an American classic!" he snapped. "Or are you so much of a bloody philistine that you don't see that?"

"Eames!" Robert's tone held a warning. "One more word, and you're gone. Thank you. You can see yourself out!"

Standing up, Eames looked at the slightly younger man. "This isn't over," he snapped, and turning, threw the door open and charged out.

* * *

><p>Arthur clicked off. He felt sick, and slightly dizzy.<p>

"Robert's Vice Principal?" he murmured. Sinking back into his chair, he tried to breathe more slowly.

"Only one thing for it," he announced to the empty room. "I'll have to try to get my job back."

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	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Ariadne walked into the staff lounge, and immediately sensed a change in mood. There was a general air of despondency, and, she felt, almost depression. Walking to the vending machine, she punched in a few buttons, and waited for her coffee to be delivered. As the hot liquid splashed into the cup, Eames walked in, looking rumpled, and furious. He stalked across to a table and sat down, heavily. She paused, waited, and then walked over.

"You ok?" she asked, tentatively. He looked up, and raised an eyebrow. "I will be." He exhaled slowly. "I will be, when that -" he paused, trying to consider his words - "when that idiot finally does the decent thing and goes back to doing what he does best. Which is sitting on his arse and spending his father's money."

Ariadne bit her lip. "You had a run in with Robert?"

Eames nodded. "Yep." He swallowed, and rubbed his face. "Came into my drama lesson, and proceeded to act like the philistine we all know he is. Rubbished my teaching of _Oleanna._ Kids should know about that play!"

"Eames, I would talk to Cobb-"

"What can he do?" the older man said, bitterly. "Nothing! He's completely at the mercy of the Fischers. Fischer senior gives money to the school, and as a result, Fischer can tell Cobb what to do."

"What if Arthur came back?" Ariadne asked, almost guardedly, as though testing Eames' response.

"I never thought I'd say this," Eames sighed, rubbing his forehead, "but if he did, it would be a godsend." He looked at Ariadne. "I may, uh, have made a reference to Arthur and Robert's disagreement. Not the cleverest thing to do."

Ariadne shook her head. "Eames. I've called Arthur. He knows."

"Great," Eames sighed, leaning back. "So now we can look forward to him coming back. If he does, I'll never comment on him being a stick in the mud ever again."

Ariadne shook her head. "Please. Still, I've got to go. Seventh graders!"

* * *

><p>Arthur leaned back in his seat, his thoughts whirling. Robert Fischer as Vice Principal? It was a horrendous idea, one straight out of a bad horror movie. He closed his eyes. Maybe, when he re-opened them, he'd be back in his office, and everything else would be back to normal. He opened them.<p>

Nope, no change.

He began to get up. Biting his lip, he headed to the bedroom It was time to get dressed - properly dressed - get back to where he belonged, and start fighting for what was his. He smiled wryly, aware his life was suddenly turning into a bad cliche. He opened the door, and started rummaging, looking for one of his suits.

* * *

><p>Ariadne entered the Art room, and smiled at her Seventh graders. The youngest students in the school, they were also the most enthusiastic. She nodded as they settled.<p>

"OK, today we're going to be starting our self-portraits!" The group giggled; most of them tended to draw caricatures when drawing themselves. "Remember, you have to keep your hand steady, and allow yourself not to get distracted-"

She broke off. Fischer walked into the room, holding a clipboard. He nodded at the Art specialist, and without a word, went and sat down at the back. She blinked, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. The older man was gripping a pen, and she had a sinking feeling that he was actively looking for things to criticise. He pulled the top off his pen, and waited patiently for the class to continue.

"OK, so what you need to do," Ariadne began, increasingly conscious of the observer sitting in the back, "is to check you have your pencils, and enough space to draw. Have you all got your photographs of yourselves?"

They all nodded, and she felt relieved. "OK, pin them up on your easels, and you can begin!"

There was a small flurry of activity as the photographs went up, and the pencils started to scratch out lines across the paper. Ariadne began to move around the room, keeping a watchful eye on the students. Suddenly, she heard a slight sniffle, and turned. Frowning, she noticed that one student was sitting, almost in tears. She walked over, biting her lip in consternation.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a low voice.

"I can't draw myself," the girl said, her voice slightly choked. "I'm too ugly and it won't look right!"

Ariadne felt her heart sink. Why, she thought, hadn't she considered this? That not all of the students would be prepared to actually draw themselves, and for some it would be acutely embarrassing? She bit her lip, not entirely sure what to say or do. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fischer shake his head, and felt her self-confidence sink even further. She then noticed his write something down, and her vestiges of self-confidence evaporated. Tight-lipped, Fischer got up, and walked over to her.

"Please come and see me at the end," he said, softly. "I'll be in my office."

She glared at him. It took all her self-control not to snap "Arthur's office" back at hi, but knew if she did there'd be repercussions. Silently, she watched him leave, feeling slightly sick at the prospect of going to his office later that day.

* * *

><p>Yusuf yawned as he wandered into the Staff lounge. As he went to his pigeonhole, he noticed a letter sticking out of it. In a creamy white envelope, sealed. He swallowed - those envelopes were generally issued for formal occasions.<p>

He ripped it open, and his eyes widened as he saw the contents:

_"Its come to my attention that you have been using chemicals in your classes without clearance from the School board. All experiments in Chemistry are now suspended until you can produce a written report on why you need them. _

_Sincerely,_

_ R.C. Fischer, Vice-Principal"_

Furious, the Head of Chemistry crumpled the letter in his fist. "I'll give him experiments," he muttered, furiously, and began to wander down to the Science labs, already considering what he could do.

* * *

><p>Ariadne swallowed as she entered Fischer's office. He was looking at her, completely dispassionately. "Do sit down," he said, his tone cool. She nodded, and did so.<p>

"Now, Ms Henderson," he said, leaning over. "I'm a little concerned about your class, and teaching methods. Do you really think that letting students draw themselves is a good idea? It seems to be a mainspring for encouraging low self-esteem. I really think it was a very unwise decision on your part."

Ariadne blinked, unsure of what to say. Robert smiled again, coldly.

"So, in light of this, I am going to observe you for the next three lessons. And if I don't see an improvement, I am going to recommend that you undergo incompetency proceedings."

Ariadne's eyes widened. "You can't-"

"Yes, I can, I'm the Vice Principal." Robert's eyes flashed. "I'm the Vice Principal, and you-"

"Beg to differ." Ariadne turned around. Arthur was standing in the doorway, his face white, and eyes furious. "As far as I'm aware, I'm still technically Vice Principal."

He walked in, and eyed Robert, whose mouth was falling open. "Now, would you care to repeat that?"

**All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the hiatus with this fic!**

Robert got up, and looked at Arthur. "Oh dear," he said, coolly. "An intruder." He turned his head away, and looked at the desk phone. "Maybe I should call campus security."

"I really wouldn't," Arthur said, his tone equally cold. "Or-"

"Or what?" Robert smirked. "What are you going to do, Arthur? You're already in enough trouble to last one lifetime. Want to make it two?"

Arthur glared at him. "Robert."

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Cobb walked in, a furious expression on his face. "What's going on?" he demanded. As he saw Arthur, his eyes widened slightly. "Art..?What are you...?"

"I heard the post of VP had been taken over," Arthur said, his face rigid. "Though I'd come and see what was going on."

Cobb nodded. "Fair enough." He looked at Robert. "Aren't you teaching now?"

The slightly younger man swallowed. "I believe so."

"Then why don't you see to your class, and I'll deal with this?"

Robert nodded, his neck visibly tightening with anger. "Of course."

Stiffly, he began to walk out, closing the door. Cobb looked from Arthur, to Ariadne, who'd been slightly shocked by the turn of events.

"Right," he said, quietly. "Will someone care to explain whats going on?"

A brief silence settled, and the Principal waited. Finally, he nodded at Ariadne. "Please, tell me."

The Art teacher bit her lip. "Well, he observed me, and claimed it was inadequate." She looked at the floor. "Then Arthur arrived, and-"

The Principal swallowed. "Ari. I suggest you get a cup of coffee, and I'll talk to you later." Silenced, she nodded, and began to move towards the door. Cobb turned to Arthur. "My office, please."

* * *

><p>Robert, bristling with anger, walked into his Twelth grade Business Math class. His appearance was greeted with silence, and he glared at the students.<p>

"Page 36, quickly!"

As the class complied, the older man's mind was swirling with thoughts. Suddenly, he noticed a hand up. "Yes, Joel?"

The student cleared his throat. "Well, I was wondering. Have you marked our assignments yet?"

Robert reddened slightly. He'd demanded that they complete an assignment related to local business groups, and had had them handed to him the previous week. He hadn't marked them, and now he found himself pinned by 14 sets of hostile eyes. "Well, I-"

"You haven't marked them, then," Joel retorted. Robert flushed, angrily.

"Don't speak to me like that," he snapped. "You forget I am also the Vice Principal. I have certain responsiblities to undertake!"

"That's strange," Bethany spoke up. A couple of other students nodded.

Robert narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me? Meaning?"

"Well," Jess spoke, "when Mr Ogilvie was Vice Principal, he always found time to mark our work in music-"

Robert's face went white with anger.

"May I remind you," he said, haughtily, "That Mr Ogilvie is no longer Vice Principal? Because he was found to be extremely unprofessional in his behaviour and attitude?"

"What about you?" Joel said, angrily. "You don't mark our work, you don't plan our classes, you-"

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Robert roared, completely losing his self-control. "How DARE you!"

Turning, he stormed out of the room, leaving the class open-mouthed.

* * *

><p>"So you thought you'd just drop by? For a chat?" Cobb leaned back in his seat, and looked at Arthur. "Art, you're suspended. You-"<p>

"I know," Arthur interrupted. "But, Dom, I couldn't sit at home, twiddling my thumbs, when I found out he was doing my job!"

Cobb nodded. "I know. Its been...interesting." He swallowed, and looked at him. "Its not been the easiest time for the school." He lifted up several sheets of paper. "Guess what these are."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Write ups on students?"

Cobb nodded. "Since Robert became VP, suddenly, the amount of paperwork I have to do has doubled." He shook his head. "Every little thing. Its every little-"

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and the door flew open. Cobb and Arthur looked up, as Robert flew in, scarlet and furious.

* * *

><p>Ariadne sat down, listlessly, with her cup of coffee. Hardly anyone else was in the Staff room. Picking the small plastic cup up, she took a sip, her thoughts whirling.<p>

Suddenly, she heard shouting. Puzzled, she put the cup down, and opened the door. The sound of a man's voice - an angry man's voice - was floating down the corridor, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps. She hurried in ther direction of the voice, only to see Robert Fischer fleeing a classroom, and the sound of students' voices, angry and talkative.

She stepped in, and was impressed when having spotted her, they immediately began to settle down. "What's going on?"She asked, her eyes flashing. The class stirred, unsure of how to respond.

Finally, Jess spoke. "Um, we asked Mr Fischer if he'd marked our assignments-"

"And he hasn't," Joel finished. "The guy's a joke, Ms Henderson."

"Enough!" Ariadne snapped. She looked at them. "OK," she said, moving into the classroom, "let's try and see where you left off."

* * *

><p>"Robert," Cobb said, genially. "Come on, let's try and discuss this. You're claiming that-"<p>

"I'm NOT claiming anything!" Robert practically shouted. "Those students are accusing me of not marking their work! The way they spoke to me was outrageous! You're the Principal, you do-"

"Robert, remember who you're speaking to." Cobb's voice was sharp. "Allow me to find out." He turned, and began to head towards the door, then stopped.

"Arthur?"

The younger man blinked. "Yes?"

"You're coming with me."

Stunned, and trying to ignore Robert's icy glare, Arthur walked past the older man, and joined Cobb as they headed down to the classroom.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Ariadne took a deep breath. "OK, lets see if we can make sense of this. You can't go and accuse members of staff of not doing their jobs."

"We can if they're not!" one of the boys shouted. Ariadne bit her lip, suddenly feeling woefully inadequate in the face of this much hostility.

"Ms Henderson," Bethany spoke. "We're just worried, about our grades. These are important assignments, and Mr Fischer hasn't marked them!"

"OK," she said, trying to stay calm, "I'll ask. But, please, I don't want to hear any more criticism of-"

Suddenly, the door opened, and Cobb stepped in, followed by Arthur. There was an audible intake of breath, and the younger man could feel himself reddening. Cobb spoke first.

"I don't expect,"he said, calmly, "to have one of my members of staff literally run ou of his classroom by students." He looked round the group, his expression grave. Ariadne could see heads beginning to bow.

"If you have a problem," Cobb continued, "there are better ways of dealing with it, more constructive ways of dealing with it, than arguing with staff." He raised his eyebrows. "Does anyone have anything to say?"

The class was silent. Cobb nodded. "Good. In that case, I'll tell Mr Fischer to come back in-"

"Just don't make him Vice Principal anymore," a voice muttered. Cobb turned, frowning slightly.

"Would you care to repeat that?" He kept his tone neutral, but both Arthur and Ariadne could hear the irritation seething underneath.

"Mr Ogilvie's back, isn't he?" the student insisted. "Can you re-instate him?"

Arthur stepped forward. "Look, guys." He paused, waiting for the group to look at him. "I appreciate that you've been unsettled, by the change. But making Mr Fischer's life difficult isn't helping. All I ask is that you treat him with courtesy and respect, ok?"

The group were muted by this, and several nodded. Arthur nodded back, then turned and left. Cobb hurried after him, leaving Ariadne with a much calmer class.

"I need to talk to you upstairs," Cobb muttered. "OK?"

Arthur nodded. "Sure."

* * *

><p>Eames sighed, and rubbed his forehead. Planning for his eleventh grade class was proving to be a Herculean task. He bristled as he thought of Oleanna.<p>

"Banned from speaking out," he grumbled. Suddenly, he heard a commotion in the corridor. Frowning, he put down his coffee cup, and left the Staff lounge.

His eyes widened. Two boys were practically pushing a girl up against the lockers. "Oh, come on, you know you want to!" One of the boys insisted, in a sneering tone.

"No, I-" she stuttered out. Her face was flushed, and Eames could see tears beginning to spring to her eyes. "Please, leave me alone!"

"Hardly, you slut!" One of them snarled at her. "I've seen the way you-"

"Oi!" Eames roared, causing them to jump. "What do you think you're doing?"

The boys turned, surprised, and glanced at him. "Oh, nothing," one said coolly.

"Don't speak to me like that," Eames snapped. "I can see you're being upleasant. Leave her alone, now!"

The other boy eyeballed Eames, who glared back with a look that froze him to the marrow. "OK," he mumbled, "we'll go." Turning, the two boys began to slouch off, giving Eames frosty backward glares.

She turned, and blushed slightly. "Thank you."

"No problem," Eames replied, kindly, and headed back to the staff lounge, unaware that her eyes were following him.

* * *

><p>"Arthur, its good to see you," Cobb said, sitting down heavily in his desk chair. "But, its a little controversial."<p>

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Thanks."

"But, I do have some news." Cobb smiled. "Ariadne is prepared to testify at the hearing."

"Really?"

"Yes. And hopefully," Cobb said, leaning forward, "that will be the end of it."

* * *

><p>Eames wandered into the Drama studio, hoping to tidy up. He groaned as he saw the disarray the Eight graders had left the room in.<p>

"Messy kids," he grumbled, beginning to straighten chairs. Suddenly, he noticed something. A pale pink enveloped, lying in the centre of his desk.

Swallowing, he opened it. His eyes widened as he saw what was written.

_Mr Eames,_

_Thank you for helping me. You are such a gentleman! I've always thought you were lovely, and you proved it!_

_ Julia xx_

__Eames swallowed, suddenly feeling a spasm of worry. A note like this-

"What's that you're holding, Eames?"

The Drama specialist gulped. Robert Fischer was standing in front of him.

**Thank you for reading, reviews appreciated!**


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Eames met Fischer's eyes, keeping his face perfectly composed. "Nothing," he said, evenly. "Forget it." He crumpled it in his hand, and turned away from the slightly older man. Fischer stood in the corridor, and followed him with his eyes.

"Eames."

The Drama specialist stopped. An uncomfortable silence had developed.

"If its nothing, why don't you show it to me?"

Eames turned. "Because its nothing, and I don't want to waste your time," he said, struggling to control his temper. He bit his lip. A student seemingly developing a crush was one thing; having Fischer making assumptions was something else. Suddenly, he turned and faced him.

"All right, I'll tell you what it is," he almost snarled, and to his astonishment, saw Fischer take a step back from him. "Its a thank you note. A thank you note, from a female student, who was being sexually harrassed by the boys. This is the type of school we have, is it? Where a perfectly decent Vice Principal can be up on a charge for stepping in when an employee is receiving unwanted attention from somebody else-" to his delight, he saw Fischer suck in his breath - "and the Drama teacher is viewed with suspicion because he tried to stop male students upsetting one of the girls. This is a school to be proud of, is it?"

Fischer looked at him, coldly. "Eames. You're-"

"Suspended?" Eames asked, his tone equally glacial.

Fischer nodded, smiling. "Yes."

"You can't suspend me." Eames tilted his head, and glared at Robert. The other man accepted the challenge. "Oh really? Why?"

"Because I resign." Eames snapped, and started to walk away. "I'll send Dom the formal letter by tomorrow."

Stunned, Robert watched him go.

* * *

><p>"So, Ariadne's testifying, thats great." Arthur grimaced. "I tell you, Dom, seeing him with his hands all over her-"<p>

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"May I make a suggestion?" The older man's blue eyes were twinkling. "Next time, just ask someone out on a date." He grinned. "It worked for me and Mal."

Arthur smiled tiredly. "I should have thought of that."

"Art, it will be ok." Cobb nodded. "Have a little faith. You're a good administrator, and the students really miss you in Music. You will get your job back."

Arthur swallowed. "Dom, I wanted to talk to you about that. You see-"

Suddenly, Cobb's desk phone rang. He sighed. "One moment." He lifted the receiver, and held it to his ear. "Hi, Dom Cobb. Eames? What? You- he- so you-"

Arthur raised his eyebrows, noting the increased tension in Cobb's voice. The other man swallowed.

"Listen. Stay where you are. You're at home? Good. Myself and Arthur will be over- wait, what? OK."

Cobb put the receiver down, and looked at the younger man. "Arthur, do you know where Eames lives?"

The younger man nodded. "I do, downtown."

"Would you mind going over and seeing him?"

Arthur's face creased into a puzzled frown. "How come?"

Cobb shook his head. "He'll explain when you get there."

* * *

><p>"Arthur!" Eames opened the door, revealing a cozy, cluttered looking apartment behind him. "Never thought I'd say this, but good to see you!"<p>

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Thanks," he muttered, walking into the hallway. Eames ushered him, and pushed open the door to the lounge. "Have a seat."

Arthur sat, noting the towering stacks of books, and a sleepy looking ginger cat, curled up contentedly in a shaft of sunlight. Eames, he could hear, was in the kitchen. He settled in the chair.

"Here we are! Tea!"

Arthur smiled as a mug of amber liquid was presented. "You're so British," he said, taking a sip.

Eames shrugged. "Of course." He sat in a chair opposite. "I've resigned."

"What?" Arthur nearly spilled his tea. "Why?"

"Because-" Eames rubbed his face. "I saw some boys hassling one of the girls, and stepped in. She then wrote me this." Slightly guiltily, he removed it from his pocket, and handed it to Arthur.

Arthur read the note, frowning. "OK, does look as though she has a crush, but you haven't encouraged her, have you?"

"No," Eames said, honestly. "I'm not that type of man, Arthur. I wouldn't do that with one of the students. They are children."

"So, you're not that type of guy, you get this note, but you resign." Arthur shook his head. "Please, fill in the blanks for me. Why the resignation?"

"Because Robert saw me with it. I knew what would happen - he'd try and make out I'm some sex-crazed predator, so I-"

"Got in first?"

Eames nodded. "Yes."

"Eames, you can't do this." Arthur slammed his mug on the table. "You can't let him push you out of a job like this."

Eames bit his lip. "But, if I stayed, the school would find out-"

"Find out what?" Arthur interrupted.

"That I had an affair with a parent at a previous school." Eames looked at his hands. "Not very professional."

"A parent?" Arthur shook his head. "Its your business, Eames."

Eames shook his head. "Not with Fischer in charge."

Arthur looked at him. "I'm sick of this." He leaned back in his chair. "You and I are professionals, Eames. He's just someone who got a job because of his connections."

"Yes." Eames rubbed his forehead. "But I can't afford to have my name dragged through the mud, and I should have sent those boys to Cobb, but I didn't think-"

"Still doesn't excuse Fischer," Arthur snapped. He looked at Eames. "Come on. Its time we worked out a strategy. A strategy to get him out."

Eames raised his eyebrows. "You sure?"

Arthur nodded. "Trust me. Yes."

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, thank you!**


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Cobb walked into the Teacher's lounge, and frowned. There was, he realised, a noticeable diminishing of the number of staff within it. No Arthur, No Eames-

No Eames?

Frowning, Cobb turned and faced the assembled group. "Good morning," he said, his tone clear and pleasant. "I would like to notify everybody of a couple of developments this week. First of all, Varsity sports training has been moved to Wednesday, and also, my Psychology students will be undertaking a mock exam tomorrow. Thats all, thank you. Has anyone anything to add?"

Robert Fischer stepped forward, smoothly. "I do." He cleared his throat, apparently oblivious to the murmuring that was circulating around the room. He raised his voice. "I regret to inform you all that Eames has resigned as Teacher of Drama. Obviously, this is for reasons that I cannot disclose, but myself and Dom will be looking to hire a replacement very soon."

The murmuring hushed - and then exploded into loud mutterings. Cobb turned to Fischer, outraged.

"Robert," he said, his voice cold, "I'll speak to you in my office. Now!"

Fischer turned and smiled at him, in a manner that was almost reptillian.

"I'm afraid you can't," he said, smoothly. "I'm teaching." And before Cobb had a chance to protest, he turned and calmly disappeared out of the door.

* * *

><p>Arthur blinked as Eames banged on the door of his apartment. He checked his watch - 7.40am. "Morning," Eames said, pleasantly. "Good to see you're awake - now, come on, lots to do!"<p>

* * *

><p>Ariadne was downstairs in the art room, setting up. She frowned slightly as she adjusted the easels in the room, then checked that the light was sufficient for the still life she was instructing the students upon. Suddenly, the door opened, and Fischer came in. He looked at her, and raised an eyebrow.<p>

"Looks like you've lost another of your little circle," he said, coolly. "Must be a little galling for you, hmmm?"

Ariadne flushed. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, trying not to sound defensive. "I'm not part of a little circle at all."

"I mean Eames, and Arthur," Robert said, his voice hard. "Both gone. They didn't hang around to stick up for you - doesn't that bother you?"

She swallowed. "I think they both had their reasons," she said, willing her voice to remain calm. "I think we both know why they're not here."

"Of course," Robert said, smirking. "Because they couldn't do their jobs, thats why." He looked at her. "Of course, when it comes to the hearing...you are going to tell the truth, aren't you?"

Ariadne blinked. "What?"

"You're going to tell them that you flirted with me all night, that Arthur was drunk and couldn't control himself, and thats why he assaulted me." Robert's voice was as cold as ice. "You are going to do this, otherwise, you might find yourself unemployed. And with my connections, unemployable."

She swallowed. "You wouldn't."

"Trust me," Robert said, smoothly. "I would." He smiled at her. "Unless, of course, you're prepared to actually go out with me?"

She looked at him. "I can't-" She straightened up. "No." Her voice was firm. "No, I'm not going to be bullied by you. I am going to tell them the truth - that you were harrassing me, and Arthur stood up for me." She glared at him.

"Ariadne, you're-"

"Suspended?" She interrupted. "You're a joke, Robert. I'm not going anywhere."

He went white with anger. "Ariadne, you are a-"

"Save it," she snapped, then walked to the door. "I have a class coming in. You can go."

Bristling with anger, Robert stalked to the door. As she watched him leave, she sucked in her breath, suddenly feeling afraid of what she had just done.

* * *

><p>Robert stalked out of the school, and into the quad. Trying to control his breathing, he looked up. Suddenly, he gasped.<p>

Hanging across the quad, tied to the trees, was a banner with a stark message.

"ROBERT FISCHER IS A LYING BULLY."

Furious, he turned and walked back into the school, only to hear his name being shouted. "Mr Fischer!"

He turned, and noticed a group of students, Twelth graders, were walking towards him. Swallowing, he tried to contol his emotions. The group's collective expression was one of anger.

* * *

><p>Mallorie Cobb smiled gently at the young woman seated opposite her. "Now, just tell me everything you can," she said, her voice calm. The student nodded, seemingly unaware of the tears streaming down her face.<p>

"I didn't mean to make Mr Eames resign," she choked out. "I shouldn't have written that note, Mrs Cobb, I shouldn't have done. But he helped me, and I was scared, and I -"

Mal leaned over and patter her arm. "Mr Eames chose to leave," she said, kindly. "He's not in trouble. But thank you for telling me what happened. I'll speak to the Principal."

She got up, and spoke again, her tone low. "You can stay here until you're calm enough to return to class." Opening the door, Mal glided out, purposefully walking towards Cobb's office.

* * *

><p>"Why aren't you in class?" Fischer said, trying to mask his fear. A large group of furious Twelth graders made him feel out of his depth. They looked from each other to him, accusingly.<p>

"Why isn't Eames here?" One demanded. "He's the best teacher in the whole school!"

Fischer swallowed. "I, uh-"

"Ever since Ogilvie left, this place is falling apart!" Another practically shouted. "I hated Ogilvie, but he was better than you!"

Fischer blanched. "How dare you-"

"You're a joke!" A large student pushed his way through. "You're a joke, and you're the reason Ogilvie and Eames are gone, and I'm-"

Suddenly, a hand grabbed the student's wrist.

"That's not necessary," Cobb said, his voice calm. He looked at Robert. "Mr Fischer, please go to your office. All of you, please go to my office. Now."

Subdued, and slightly shaken, the students dispersed. Cobb turned to Robert.

"Listen," Cobb said, calmly, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave for the day. Until this is sorted out."

Fischer blinked, stunned. "You're-"

"Robert." Cobb looked at him. "Just go. Please."

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Eames looked at Arthur as they settled themselves onto the couch in the former Vice Principal's apartment. Eames lifted one of the bottled beers on the table. "To us," he said, grinning, and took a swallow.

Arthur turned to him. "Don't you think what we did was-"

"Childish? Spiteful?" Eames shrugged. "Yes, it was - but actions speak louder than words. He can't prove the banner was us."

Arthur started to grin. "I guess not."

Suddenly, his cell phone began to ring. Sighing, he pulled it out of his pocket. "Hello?"

"Arthur? Dom. Get over here. And if you can find Eames, bring him too, OK?"

**All reviews appreciated. Thank you!**


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer**:** Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the hiatus with this fic!**

Robert stalked his way back through the school building, his face contorted into an ugly scowl. As he walked past pockets of students, he noticed that they were smirking at him. He stopped, and glared.

"What is it?" he snapped.

Two boys shrugged. "We don't know." Their voices were overly polite. "Sir."

Fischer glowered at them. "Go to class. Now."

They nodded. "Of course." They turned away, snickering. Trying to suppress his anger, he continued to walk through the halls, on his way to the parking lot.

As he reached the double doors, he noticed something. A list. Blinking, he looked it, his mouth opening in shock.

_"Sexiest Male Staff on the Faculty:_

_Eames!_

_Mr Ogilvie!_

_Least sexiest: _

_Fischer!"_

Snarling with rage, he ripped it down, oblivious to the snickering students gathering in the hallways. His face crimson with anger, he began to march back through the hallways, to Cobb's office.

* * *

><p>"So, do you have any idea what this is about?" Arthur muttered as he and Eames drove into the parking lot. Both were in suits, and Arthur had gelled his hair back. He cast a quick glance at the older man as they parked.<p>

Eames shrugged. "No idea." He bit his lip. "Maybe its to ask when we want to officially clear our desks out."

Arthur shook his head. "I doubt it. I'm still under investigation - and as for you, it should be easy to clear your name. You helped her out, that was all. Nothing more than that." He noticed how pale Eames' looked. "Look, she's an unhappy young woman, she reacted to an older adult being caring. Thats all. She misinterpreted it."

"I handled it badly." Eames smacked his palm. "When will I ever learn?"

Arthur smiled tiredly. "When do any of us?" He turned off the engine, and began to open his door. Suddenly he stopped, blinking.

"You allright?" Eames asked.

"Over there," Arthur said, nodding.

Eames followed his look. Several students were hanging around one of the cars in the parking lot. Eames leaned forward. "Is that...Robert's porsche?"

Arthur nodded, a grin beginning to spread across his face. "I think it might be." He turned back to the older man, his grin becoming infectious. "Shall we go and investigate?"

Eames grinned. "Yes!"

* * *

><p>Cobb looked up, annoyed, at the sharp knock on the door. Mal was sitting across from him. She sighed.<p>

"Yes?" Cobb called. Without waiting to be asked, Robert opened the door, and strode in, his face crimson. Coob stood up. "Robert, I thought I told you-"

"Look at this!" The younger man interrupted rudely. "Just look!"

Cobb blinked, and looked at the page. "Robert, this is-"

"Sexual harrassment!" Fischer practically screamed. "Don't you see that? Your Vice Principal is-"

"_My _Vice Principal is Arthur!" Cobb exploded. "Do you hear me, Robert? Arthur! You're someone who saw an opportunity, and tried to muscle his way in! Now, for the last time, get off my school campus, and I'll call you when you can come back!"

Robert glared at him, the veins in his neck standing out. "You'll regret this," he hissed. "I promise you." Turning, he stormed out.

Mal blinked in shock. "Are you allright?" She asked, gently. Cobb nodded. "I'm fine, Mrs. Cobb," he said, reminding her of the protocol in the school. He sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "I just want to get Arthur and Eames back in here, try and straighten this mess out."

She nodded. "I know." She looked at the desk.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me!" Arthur said, loudly. A group of students were hanging around the Porsche. "What are you doing?"<p>

The students stood up, electrified. Several of them began to disperse, and hurried away. Arthur blinked.

The Porsche was covered with letters in bright red paint. Taking a step back, Arthur bit his lip as he read:

"FISCHER EQUALS SCUM".

Eames hurried over. "Oh, my God." He looked at Arthur. "When he sees this, he's going to go-"

Arthur turned. "I think he's about to." The two men stood and watched as Fischer began to walk across the campus. "Come on, let's see Cobb."

* * *

><p>Cobb was seated behind his desk when the knock on the door came. He looked up. "Come in!" His face relaxed when Arthur and Eames entered. "Come in, both of you, sit down."<p>

Arthur looked at Cobb. "So, why do you want to see us both?"

Cobb rubbed his face. "I'm over ruling your suspension." He looked at Arthur. "I need you back here, Arthur - I mean it. I need a VP who is actually fair enough to discipline when he needs to, and steps back if necessary." He looked at him. "The hearing will be in a week. Until then, please go to your office, and get back to work."

Arthur nodded. "Yes." Turning, astounded at his change in fortunes, he walked back to his office. Cobb then turned to Eames. "Mal?"

She nodded. "I've spoken to the student concerned," she said, in her gentle, lilting voice. "She was extremely upset, Eames. She told me that she was grateful to you for what you did, and what she did was inappropriate."

Cobb nodded. "What Robert did was wrong. Eames. Please accept our apologies."

The British man bit his lip. "Thank you." He looked at Cobb. "When can I come back?"

Cobb smiled. "Don't you have a class in ten minutes?"

Eames nodded. "Yes."

* * *

><p>Ariadne was marking her Twelth graders' work when there was a gentle tap at the door. She looked up. "Yes?"<p>

Arthur pushed the door open, and smiled. "May I come in?"

"Arthur!" Ariadne dropped her pen. "When did you-"

"About twenty minutes ago," he said, quietly. "Cobb has reinstated me, before the hearing." He looked at the floor. "Hopefully, this means that-"

"The charge against you will be dropped." She looked at him. "I hope so."

"So do I." A silence fell. Then, he looked at her.

"Ari, this isn't the time or the place, but...dinner tomorrow night? My place?"

She nodded. "Yes." Leaning upwards, their lips met briefly, then they both drew back. "Probably shouldn't do this here," Arthur whispered. "I don't want to get suspended again."

She laughed. "No. No you don't. But there's the coffee shop after work. And if we meet there, I can tell you what I'm going to say."

Arthur smiled. "Perfect." He checked his watch. "I should go, full duties - so I'm teaching again in ten minutes." He turned to her as he left the room. "Oh, and Ari?"

"Yes?"

"Check whether your red paint is still in here, will you?"

**All reviews appreciated and read, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

"Red paint," Ariadne muttered under her breath as she began to clean up for the day. "It should be..." she checked the bottom shelf of her store cupboard. The pot of red paint was there, as it always had been. Smiling, she switched off the light, picked up her lightweight jacket, and began to head for the door. She checked her watch - 4.30. She had time to get home and make herself presentable before she met Arthur.

Ariadne grabbed her window pole, and started to close the top windows of the art room. Suddenly, she jumped. A scream was echoing across the parking lot.

* * *

><p>"MY CAR!" Robert Fischer, scarlet in the face and speechless with anger, was looking at his porsche. "MY CAR!"<p>

Eames, who was walking across the parking lot to his own more modest hatchback, turned and looked. "Is something wrong, Robert?"

Furious, the other man glared at him. "Look," he spat. Eames' eyes widened as he spotted the red painted letters, luridly pronouncing "FISCHER EQUALS SCUM." "Well...bloody hell." He looked at Robert. "Can you get it fixed?"

Robert stared at him, witheringly. "Get it fixed? Eames, this is a porsche. A _porsche. _Not some old jalopy junk that you picked up for $100."

Eames swallowed, trying to keep his temper in the face of this latest insult. "Yes, I'm aware that its a porsche," he said, calmly. "But, I'm sure you can take it to a garage, get it cleared up-"

"Do you have any idea how much that would cost?" Robert was almost incandescent. "It would cost more than your paycheck for this month!"

"But that's just loose change to you, Robert," Eames said, smoothly. "We all know that." Turning, he began to unlock the door to his own car, letting the other man splutter with indignation. Ariadne appeared, and when she saw the mess, looked shocked. Fischer, who had the door opened, glared at her, got in, and slammed the door. He drove off, in a cloud of dust and with screeching tires. She shuddered.

"Its all right," Eames called out of the window of his car. "The big bad wolf has gone. Or the skinny, underfed wolf, to be fair. Now, you meeting Arthur?"

She nodded. "Yes, the coffee shop."

"Excellent. See you both there!"

* * *

><p>Arthur scanned the coffee shop, and spotted Ariadne. He hurried over to her, neatly dodging the waitress. "Hey," he said, smiling.<p>

She looked up. "Hi there." Her expression was one of relief. "Eames will be joining us."

Arthur nodded. "OK." He swallowed, and sat down. "What'll it be?"

"Latte will be fine," she said, hastily, and as the waitress approached, he placed her order, and a cappuccino for himself. As the waitress left, Eames arrived, and slid into the booth, next to Arthur. "Did you see Fischer before you left?"

Arthur shook his head. "Didn't have the pleasure." He looked at Eames, who was pretending to study the laminated menu. "Why?"

"Well, he was a bit upset over his car."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well, someone had daubed it with red paint." Eames closed the menu. "Left a lovely little calling card on it."

Arthur turned to Ariadne. "Where was your red paint, Ari?"

"In the store room." She looked at him. "You asked me earlier."

"I know I did, and if its there, good. Because he can't pin it on you." Arthur fell silent as the drinks were brought over. "Fischer will happily accuse any of us of that."

"But did you-" she looked at the two men, uneasily. "Did you-"

"No." Arthur shook his head. "But I think I know how did." He leaned forward. "Did you notice how a couple of the Twelth graders had slightly red hands this afternoon, when you taught them?"

Eames nodded. "Now you mention it-"

"But if they used my paint-"

"They wouldn't," Arthur interrupted. "They wouldn't use your paint, because that means Robert-" he lowered his voice. "It would mean Robert could accuse you of setting it up."

She nodded. "I see."

"Still," Arthur continued, "the hearing. Ari, I'm just going to be honest. That he was harrassing you, and I lost my temper."

"Well, I'll tell you what I'm going to say," Ariadne said, turning to him. "That he pressured me into going on a date with him, spent the entire evening trying to grope me, I told him to stop, and you were a gentleman and just sticking up for me."

Eames grinned. "Sounds about right." He leaned back in his seat. "Speak of the devil."

Arthur blinked, and looked up. Robert Fischer was striding through the coffee shop, his eyes narrowed. As he saw the three of them he stopped. "Well," he said, pleasantly. "Isn't this cosy?"

Arthur looked at him. "Robert." His tone was neutral. "Is there a problem?"

"Oh, no, there's no problem," Robert replied. "Aside from the fact your school is housing a vandal." He looked at the slightly younger man, his glacial blue eyes flashing. "My porsche...was covered in red paint." He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, thats unfortunate," Arthur said, calmly. "Still, lucky you being able to afford to buy a new one!" He picked up his cappuccino, and took a sip. Robert reddened.

"Doesn't it bother you that you have a vandal?" He asked, coldly. "Doesn't it bother you that my property has been destroyed?"

Arthur put his cup down, and turned to Robert. "No." His tone was calm. "It doesn't." He took another sip. "But I'll tell you what does bother me. It bothers me that there is a member of staff in my school who is so disliked by the students that they'd vandalise his car. It bothers me that he's so arrogant and self-absorbed he's prepared to harrass a female member of the faculty. And it bothers me as well that when he was Vice Principal, he pushed three members of staff to quit. That bothers me, Robert." He looked at him. "The hearing is tomorrow. But I can assure you - when its over, you'll be facing a disciplinary. That will be all."

Arthur picked up his cappuccino, and took another sip. His face turning bone white, Robert turned and fled the coffee shop. Arthur smiled, and reaching over, placed his hand on Ariadne's.

"It'll be ok," he said, softly. "I promise." Nodding, she curled her fingers around his.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Is Fischer really going to be facing a disciplinary?" Eames was sitting in Arthur's lounge, sipping a scotch. Arthur and Ariadne were sitting opposite him. "Because if he is...what do you think is going to happen?"

Arthur shrugged. "Hopefully, he'll get a written warning, and possibly told not to come in to a classroom again." He shuddered, and sipped his scotch. "But then, when your father is one of the wealthiest men in the world, you can use anything against people."

Eames sighed. "What an unfortunate upbringing he's had. Getting indoctrinated into the idea that its perfectly acceptable to bully people to within an inch of their lives, and then use money to cover your tracks."

Arthur shrugged. "Maybe, but that's Robert. I just think he needs to go into corporate business, run his father's empire, rather than using teaching as a cover for the fact he has nothing to do but spend his trust fund."

Ariadne looked into her glass. "He's probably lonely."

"And, he's unpleasant." Eames said. "No redeeming features, I'm afraid."

Ariadne bit her lip. "Well, if people were-"

"Don't even go there," Eames said, shaking his head. "Trust me, we have tried plenty of times to get Robert to socialise, to pull his head out of his arse. And we've frequently failed."

"He just-" Arthur stopped. "He just makes it very clear he doesn't want anyone's company. Its like that, Ari, it really is."

"Oh," Ariadne said, nodding. "I see." She took another sip of water. "Well, I guess there's nothing more to do." She rubbed her forehead. "But, if he does get a disciplinary - do you think he'll be nicer?"

Eames and Arthur looked at one another. "No," they said in unison. Eames looked at her. "I don't think he's capable of being nice."

She got up. "Well, we'll see."

"You going home?" Arthur asked, his face falling slightly.

"Well, I-"

"Oh, look at the time!" Eames burst out. "I do have things I should be doing." He got up. "Well, good night, you two!"

"Eames, I-" before Arthur could speak, the Drama specialist had disappeared out of the room, and they heard the front door close. Biting his lip, Arthur turned to Ariadne.

"Listen, its getting pretty late," he said, softly. "And, I, uh-"

She smiled. "I can get a cab."

"No!" Arthur looked shocked. "No, I mean - I have a spare room. If that's ok."

Ariadne smiled, and let him take her hand. "Or..." he said, hesitantly, "we..."

Leaning over, she kissed him.

* * *

><p>Robert stood in his garage, looking at his Porsche. A scowl was twisting his features, and he glared at the marks made.<p>

"My car," he muttered, furiously. "My car, and its destroyed by-"

Suddenly, a smile began to light his face. Pulling his cellphone out of his pocket, he returned to his expensive apartment.

* * *

><p>Arthur entered his classroom the next day, and began to arrange his papers. Suddenly, after the bell rang, a group of students appeared. Arthur looked up. "Morning," he said, pleasantly.<p>

"Mr Ogilvie!" exclaimed one of the boys. "Good to see you!"

"Thank you," Arthur said, raising an eyebrow. "Whether you'll be saying that when I hand back the marks on your latest test, is another matter! Everyone, take a seat."

The students settled quickly, and Arthur began distributing test papers. "Right, please take a look at these marks, and my comments. Remember, I'm trying to be constructive, and help you all achieve the grades you deserve."

Joel raised his hand. "Mr Ogilvie?"

"Yes?" Arthur asked, turning.

"What's that - running out of the music cupboard?"

Arthur turned, and his eyes widened. "What the...?" A pool of liquid was forming on the floor, next to the cupboard door. Biting his lip, he walked over to it to investigate.

* * *

><p>Ariadne hummed to herself as she prepared her classroom. As she finished arranging the fruit in the centre for the still life, she heard the door creak. As she looked up, she shook her head. "What do you want, Robert?"<p>

"Just wondering...have you seen Arthur today?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven't." She looked at the floor, hoping Fischer wouldn't see her blush slightly. He raised an eyebrow, framing his icy countenance.

"Really? Well, clearly I was misinformed." He turned. "Although...when you do see him, Ms Henderson, do mention that I'm looking for him."

She nodded, coldly. "Of course, Mr Fischer."

Smirking, he turned and left. Ariadne pursed her lips, and kept her temper.

* * *

><p>"I don't believe this!" Arthur gasped, his jaw sagging. "The guitairs...all the equipment!"<p>

The Twelth graders were standing around the entrance to the cupboard, shocked and horrified. All the instruments were covered in splashes and smears of red paint, with an empty can standing inside the door.

"Look, this is ridiculous!" Arthur looked up, hearing Cobb's voice. The students quickly headed back to their desks. "You have no right to do this, no right at all!"

"Mr Cobb, we're simply acting on what we were told. That's all." Suddenly, two police officers entered the room. "Mr Arthur Ogilvie?"

"Yes?" Arthur blinked.

"Mr Ogilvie, we're investigating a complaint of vandalism made by Mr Robert Fischer regarding paint damage to his car. He claims it was red paint. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

**Thank you for reading, reviews appreciated!**


	40. Chapter 40

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur blinked, and looked at the officer. "Are you..." he paused, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the other pairs of eyes in the room, that were fixing themselves on him. "Are you serious?"

The officer nodded, his own face reddening slightly. "I'm afraid so. You see, this is a reported felony, and we need to find out who the perptrators were."

"Well, I..." Arthur felt words fail him. "I didn't do it," he said, clearly, and firmly. "I did not. I'm not immature enough to try and ruin someone else's car."

There was a ghost of a smile on the officer's face. "I think I can see that," he said, calmly, "but I'm afraid I still have to question you. Now, would you come with me, please?"

Arthur nodded, his mind whirring. "Of course."

He followed the officers out. As he left, the students' voice erupted into a buzz of frantic chatter.

* * *

><p>Dom bit his lip as he looked out of the window. Mal walked forward, and put a placating hand on his arm.<p>

"Please," she said, kindly, "Arthur will be ok."

The Principal turned to her, and smiled, sadly. "The only person I will take the comment from today is you," he said, softly. "But this is a nightmare." He sat down, heavily. "How do I deal with all this? This is all down to Robert." He sighed and buried his face in his hands.

Suddenly, he sat up. "No, its also down to me. I should have stuck up for Arthur when the Superintendent came in. I could have done that. I could have told him that this was a ridiculous charge, brought by someone who has a major grudge against him. It wouldn't have been too hard to do that, would it?"

Mal was silent as he began to pace the office. "I should have got Robert out, earlier. He's unfit to teach or be here."

Mal looked at him. "So what are you going to do?"

Cobb came to a halt, and met her eyes. "At the moment, I have no idea. But I'll think of something."

* * *

><p>"Right, Mr Ogilvie." The detective, who had introduced himself as Michael Reed, smiled at him, reassuringly. "I can assure you you are not under arrest. This is merely to help us with our enquiries."<p>

Arthur nodded. "OK."

"So." The detective began. "Can you tell us what you were doing on Tuesday night?"

Arthur blinked. That had been the night before Robert's car was vandalised. "I was at home," he said, honestly.

"Alone?"

"No." Embarrassment suddenly welled up, and he exhaled, slowly. "I was with a friend."

"Female or male?"

"Female. Actually..." Arthur took a deep breath before speaking. "My girlfriend." The detective looked at him, and scribbled it down.

"Mr Ogilvie, is there any reason why someone might spread red paint over Mr Fischer's car?"

Arthur swallowed. "Well, I, uh, can think of a few reasons."

Reed looked interested. "A few? Such as?"

Arthur looked at his hands. "Well...he's - he's not exactly liked," he said, tactfully. The detective frowned slightly. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Well, he, uh-" Arthur took a deep breath, and decided to be honest. "He went out for dinner with me, and three other colleagues, one of whom is now my girlfriend, and harrassed her.

"Harrassed her?" Reed leaned forward. "Would you explain further?"

"He kept trying to grab at her," Arthur explained. "And I lost my temper with him over it."

"How?"

"I threw ice cream in his lap," he admitted. A choking noise came from the detective, which Arthur swore could have been an attempt to stifle laughter. "And since then..."

"Since then - what?"

"Well, he complained and got me suspended. And since then things have gone from bad to worse."

Reed closed his notebook, and looked at him. "Mr Ogilvie. You do realise that if Mr Fischer was harrassing your colleague, she could have made a complaint of sexual harrassment, which is an offence?"

Arthur blinked. "I, uh-"

"Put simply, Mr Ogilvie," Reed said quietly. "I think I may be questioning the wrong man."

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Robert smiled as he walked down the corridor, humming happily. He'd seen Arthur led away by the detective, and couldn't help but feel a glow of triumph.

He whistled as he entered the business classroom. Suddenly, his face began to freeze. Cobb was sitting in the chair behind his desk.

"Robert," he said, quietly, "I think we need to talk."

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, thank you!**


	41. Chapter 41

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the hiatus, and thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing!**

Arthur shook his head in relief as he began to leave the station. He stopped by the front desk, and a young female officer smiled at him.

"Your things, Mr Ogilvie?"

Arthur nodded, and breathed more easily as he collected his wrist watch, wallet, and cell phone. He signed, and began to leave, fastening his watch as he did.

As he walked down the steps, and headed towards the parking lot, he began to punch in a number. After a few rings, he heard a voice.

"Hello?"

"Ari? Its me. Listen, you want to meet me?"

* * *

><p>Robert stared insolently at Cobb, who smiled, patiently.<p>

"Now, listen," Cobb said, his tone genial. "This doesn't have to get unpleasant. Any more unpleasant than it actually is."

Robert raised an eyebrow. His casual air of diffidence made Cobb feel he was dealing with a difficult, belligerant student. Gritting his teeth, he began to speak again.

"Robert, you're not making this easy. You had my-"

"I did what?"

Cobb blinked. "Are you the reason why Arthur was arrested this morning?"

Robert glared, coldly. "Dom. When someone puts red paint over my car - my very expensive, very well looked after car - I tend to get upset. Especially if its someone whom I know what a grudge against me."

Cobb leaned back in his seat. "Arthur has every right to hold a grudge against you."

Robert arched an eyebrow. "Very bold statement, Dom."

"Well," Cobb countered, "look at it this way. You managed to get him suspended on a trumped up charge, and this has degenerated into a battle of wills. You never miss an opportunity. You made yourself Vice principal, and-"

Robert looked at Cobb. "And then, suddenly, Arthur's back. And my car gets vandalised." He shrugged.

"Robert. Let me tell you this. And I suggest you think about it very, very carefully. Tomorrow, there will be the hearing for the disciplinary. You will be questioned, and so will Arthur. I suggest you stick to the facts."

Robert's facial expression didn't change. "Or what?"

"Or, you could find yourself in even deeper trouble than you are currently."

Robert shrugged, and got up. "I don't think so." He smiled, coldly. "I'm looking forward to the hearing. Trust me."

Before Cobb could stop him, he'd turned, and begun to walk out the door.

* * *

><p>"OK, so what happened?"<p>

Arthur swallowed, and handed Ariadne a glass of water. "Well, they're not pressing charges." He pulled a face. "No evidence. Clearly, Robert doesn't realise that you need fingerprints to pin blame on someone."

Ariadne took a swallow of water, her face reddening with anger. "Who does he think he is?"

"Robert Fischer, Jr." Arthur said, tiredly. "But, tomorrow, its all over."

"The disciplinary?" Ariadne nodded. "But what are you going to say?"

"The truth," Arthur said, softly. "That Fischer was making you uncomfortable, and I retaliated."

She swallowed. "And then what happens?"

Arthur smiled. "We get him arrested." She looked slightly shocked. "Ari...what he was doing was sexual harrassment. You can press charges."

The Art teacher swallowed. "Arthur, I don't know if this is a good idea. I just want this to be over, for you to come back to work ,and that to be it. I don't want to be pressing charges against Robert. What he did was ridiculous, but I should have stopped him. I am capable."

Arthur blinked, feeling slightly stunned. "Ari-"

"Arthur, you don't need to stand up for me," she said, smiling. "I'll be ok, tomorrow, I promise."

Arthur nodded. "OK." He smiled, and leaned forward, his lips searching for hers. "Its just I- worry," he said, lamely.

Ariadne laughed, and kissed the tip of his nose. "Oh, I know," she said, gently. She leaned against him, and he wrapped an arm around her.

* * *

><p>Eames sighed tiredly, and checked his watch. He'd stayed later than he intended, tidying up the drama studio, and planning classes. He had a niggling feeling that Cobb's rejection of his resignation was only temporary. If Arthur had to leave, he knew the powerful arm of Robert Fischer would be trying to push him out. Grumbling, he reached for his jacket, and started to leave.<p>

As he walked away from the school, the welcoming lights of the Coffee Bean began to beckon. He checked his watch; he was tired, it wasn't too late, and a mocha would be a welcome pick up. He entered, and walked to the counter. As he placed his order, he looked round.

He blinked. Sitting, discreetly tucked away in a booth, was Robert Fischer. Sitting opposite him was a nervous looking Twelth grader. Intrigued, Eames collected his order, and slipped unobtusively into an adjoining booth.

"I don't know if I can do it, Mr Fischer," the boy was saying, his words tripping over themselves. "Its-"

"I'll put it this way," Fischer's voice was ice. "Either you do this, or you find yourself failing school. OK?"

"Mr Fischer-"

"Just do it," Fischer snarled. He got up, and without turning, left the coffee chop. Eames sat frozen, unable to think about anything other than what he'd just heard. After waiting a few minutes, he got up quietly, and left.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	42. Chapter 42

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"You heard what?" Arthur sat upright in his chair, his fingers curled around the handle of his coffee mug. He'd been idly strumming his guitar, trying to think about the hearing the following day, when Eames had called. Unable to decipher the over-excited, and garbled message he'd left, Arthur had rung back, and asked him to come round.

"I heard," Eames said, patiently, running a hand back over his hair, "I heard Fischer threatening a student. Telling him that he'd be in trouble if he didn't do something."

"But are you sure this is something to do with this?" Arthur took a sip of coffee. "Maybe he was trying to bribe him into washing his porsche."

"And if he is, we can get him for that." Eames smiled. Arthur shook his head.

"Look, Eames, something is going on." Arthur put his mug down. "I know it is. But what you heard - we have no evidence."

"But Arthur-"

"Look, did you even recognise the student?"

Eames shook his head. "No." He looked crushed. "But remember, I only teach two classes of Twelves-"

"Hang on!" Arthur interrupted, getting to his feet. "Let's go back to Fox."

"What?" Eames looked non-plussed. "Its half seven."

"Yes, and I have a security pass, and so do you. Come on."

"Why?"

Arthur turned and looked at Eames. "To find out who this is, using the student record database. They have photos, remember?"

Eames swallowed. "Well, I-"

"You brought me this information," Arthur said, quietly. "I assume you expect me to use it?"

Eames nodded. "Yes." He got up. "Shall we go?"

* * *

><p>"James! Phillipa!"<p>

Cobb looked up as he heard his wife's voice echo through the hallway. He looked at the clock on the desk in his study, and pushed his chair back. Time for bed. Getting up, he began to walk down the hallway, and walked into Mal.

"Its all right," she said, gently. "I'll get them ready for bed, you have to prepare for tomorrow." She patted Cobb on the shoulder, causing him to smile, gratefully. "I'll cope!"

"Thanks," he admitted. "Its just that this case - it could fall apart and-"

"You need to finish practising your notes," she reminded him, gently. "Go on."

Rubbing his forehead, Cobb walked back towards his study. He settled in his chair, and leafed through the bulging dossier.

"Robert," he mumbled, "why can't I just fire you?"

* * *

><p>Arthur tapped his security card on the electronic key, and waited. After a few seconds, the doors opened. "Come on," he said, nodding at Eames.<p>

The older man followed him, and they walked up the stairs to the management offices. Arthur swiped his card down the door lock to his office, pushed the door open, and entered.

"OK," he said, sitting down at the computer chair. "How would you describe this kid?"

Eames sank into another chair, and thought. "Erm, blonde. Skinny. Pale."

Arthur looked at him. "That describes about 60% of the boys in the Twelth grade. Care to be more specific?"

Eames paused, thoughtfully. "He had a-" he swallowed, trying to remember what he'd seen. "He had a mole on his left cheek," he offered, helpfully. "A small one."

Arthur nodded. "I think I might know who that is." He began tapping into the computer. After a few seconds, the machine began to hum gently, and pictures began to flash up on the screen. Using the mouse, Arthur moved and clicked on the images.

"There. Look." He leaned back in his seat. Eames blinked. Looking out from the screen was the pale, yet defiant face of the boy he'd seen with Fischer. Arthur tapped the screen. "Does he look familiar?"

Eames nodded. "Yes, that's him. But-" he paused - "why is he working with Fischer?"

Arthur swallowed. "His name is Michael Kerr. He has something of a-" he paused and turned to Eames - "grudge against me."

"A grudge? Why?"

Arthur sighed. "Because I caught him smoking once on campus, and called his parents. What I didn't realise at the time was his father is somewhat - abusive."

"Abusive?"

"He beats him." Arthur fell silent, and rubbed his face. "He got home, and his father laid into him. He came into school the next day with bruising on his face. Mal called social services, but his father argued that he'd brought it on himself by breaking the rules. But, if I'd let it go-"

"But you couldn't let it go." Eames looked at Arthur, his expression serious. "There are rules, here, and its your job, my job, our job to enforce them."

"Yes, but if I'd known the circumstances-" Arthur trailed off, feeling unable to express himself further. "I wouldn't have done it."

"Well, what's done is done," Eames said pragmatically, only to recoil when Arthur glared at him. "Sorry. Trying to be...helpful."

"Well, we've identified him," Arthur said, deciding to gloss over Eames' comment. "Now, the hard part."

"Which is?"

"We go to his house, and-"

"Arthur!" Eames turned to him, shocked. "If his father finds out-"

"He doesn't live with them anymore." Arthur shook his head. "His brother is ten years older - he lives with him, and his wife, I believe. But that's another reason so hate me, the breaking up of his family."

"So you did him a favour, really."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Do you think a teenager would see it that way? Come on." He began to log off, and stood up. "Let's-"

Suddenly, he stopped. Eames frowned. "What is it?"

"I'm sure I can-" Arthur sniffed the air. "Smell smoke."

Eames shrugged. "My cigarettes are in my top pocket."

"No, I-" Arthur swallowed. "Seriously, I-"

Eames clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Arthur, come on. We need to go."

The younger man sighed, but realised he had no choice. "OK, let's go."

The two men exited the office, and walked down the hallway. As they descended the stairs, Arthur stopped, and sniffed again.

"Eames. Smoke. Can you-"

"Yes," the older man said, his expression starting to reflect concern. "I can, come on, let's-"

Arthur turned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure running along the bottom corridor. "Hey!" he shouted, and started to head after him. Without a moment's hesitation, Eames followed.

As the two men approached the bottom of the stairs, Eames' eyes widened. Smoke was beginning to travel along the corridor.

"Arthur, we need to-" he turned, to address the younger man. To his shock, he saw the swing door moving, a clear indication that Arthur had gone through it. "Arthur!"

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, thank you!**


	43. Chapter 43

**Disclaimer**:** Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the haitus!**

"Hey!" Arthur shouted, his voice echoing down the corridor. He stopped, and tried to breathe. The smoke, he realised, was accompanied by an acrid stench.

Burning.

Swallowing, he took a few steps, hoping that he could continue further. The smoke was beginning to thicken, and as he walked past a couple of classrooms, he could feel the heat starting to catch his throat.

He stopped, and coughed. As he did so, he noticed a sudden movement. A figure, partially obscured. Trying to keep himself calm, he steadied his breathing, and continued.

* * *

><p>Eames choked, swallowed, and tried to stay calm. "Arthur," he muttered. "Where have you gone?"<p>

Turning his head, he noticed that the smoke was increasing in volume. Feeling stifled, he began to hurry after him. "Arthur!"

He pushed open the swing doors, realising that the corridor was not lighted. Frustrated, he began to move along the wall, searching for the light switch. As he moved, the smoke started to roll down the smooth, painted hall to greet him. He stopped, his eyes beginning to water.

"Arthur-"

He coughed again. Smoke was moving more quickly, and thickly, along. Trying to ignore it, he headed after Arthur. "Where are you," he grumbled. Aware that both had limited time, and resources.

* * *

><p>Ariadne sighed as she made herself a cup of herbal tea. Heated the water, dropped in a bag, waited. Removed the cup, and the bag. Carefully, balancing the cup on a saucer, she began to move to the lounge.<p>

The shrill piercing ring of the phone startled her, nearly dropping the cup. She carefully balanced it on a table, and reached for the receiver. "Hello?"

"Ariadne? Its Dom Cobb."

"Oh," she said, trying to conceal her disappointment. She realised, with a wry smile, that she'd been hoping Arthur would contact her, or maybe even show up, unexpectedly. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I realise this may seem an odd question, but have you seen Arthur this evening?"

Ariadne swallowed, and shifted the receiver to her ear. "I...no."

"Well, that's odd." Cobb swallowed, and she could tell he was uneasy about this conversation. "I called his apartment, as there are things that need to be discussed about the hearing, but no reply."

She bit her lip. "I- have you called the school?"

"The school?" Cobb sounded puzzled. "Ariadne, its nearly 10 pm."

"Well, its just a thought."

"I see. Thank you. Goodnight."

As the receiver went dead, she replaced it into the cradle, her mind starting to whirl.

* * *

><p>Arthur hurried down the corridor, his eyes and throat starting to sting. He stopped and choked. "Hey!" he shouted, his voice cracking with the sour atmosphere. He stopped, and listened.<p>

No reply.

Arthur took a deep breath, immediately gagging on the smoke. _Get out, _his mind chanted. Turning, he began to hurry back, painfully aware that he had limited time.

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

"Robert?"

"Yes?"

"Dominic."

"Yes?"

Cobb gritted his teeth in frustration. Robert's opaqueness was infuriating, and he reminded himself, part of the reason for the mess that had snowballed into an avalanche. He tried to speak again, politely.

"Have you seen Arthur?"

"Why would I?" Robert's voice was vague, and disinterested. "Please excuse me, I need to go to bed. Good night."

The buzzing of the disconnection reverberated through Cobb's head. He slammed the receiver back in its cradle, and stood up. Mal, leafing through a file, looked up from the couch, a frown forming on her face.

"What is it?"

"No Arthur. And, no Eames." Cobb rubbed his forehead. "I'm going to the school."

* * *

><p>Robert gently replaced the receiver, shrugging, and pulled his BlackBerry into his hand.<p>

Frowning at the lack of messages, he proceeded to head to his apartment's bedroom.

* * *

><p>"Arthur-" Eames coughed again. Suddenly, he felt the taste of smoke filling his throat completely. "Arthur-"<p>

"Eames?"

The older man blinked, trying to wash smoke out of his eyes. "Arthur, are you-"

"Yes!" the younger man shouted, hoarsely. "Come on!" He coughed. "The school - its on fire!"

Eames stopped. The heat was beginning to intensify. "Arthur, I-"

"Come on!" he felt a hand grab at his sleeve. "We need to get out!"

Grabbing at Arthur's forearm, the two men began to stumble out. "We need to-" Eames choked, feeling himself becoming overpowered.

"Keep going!" Arthur shouted. "Keep going!"

After an eternity, they reached the double doors leading back into the main foyer. With a shove, they staggered back into the opening area.

"To the doors," Arthur muttered.

Suddenly, they heard a loud, crackling sound.

* * *

><p>Cobb pulled up sharply, and practically wrenched the door open. As he scrambled out of the car, his heart began to rise up his throat.<p>

Part of the school building was visibly on fire. With a jolt, he realised that it was the area where the lans were concentrated - the chemistry block.

Trying to stay calm, he began to run to the entrance. As he approached, he saw the main school door began to shift open, as two figures started to stagger out, onto the steps.

"Arthur!" Cobb shouted.

Suddenly, the chemistry labs exploded. As the two men started to walk down the steps, the force of the explosion sent the three of them flying forwards. As they tried to calm themselves, Cobb and Arthur turned, and watched in horror at the burning wreckage of their school.

**All reviews and readers appreciated, thank you!**


	44. Chapter 44

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur wheezed, and coughed. Turning his head, he spat out a mouthful of phlegm. He blinked. Normally, he would condemn what he considered to be gross behaviour, but it had tasted of the smoke that had threatened to choke and potentially kill him.

He wiped his mouth with his hand, then wiped that in the grass. He blinked again- his vision was starting to clear, and he felt the tears running down his face. His eyes were smarting.

"Arthur?"

He coughed again, and looked up. Cobb, his face a mask of concern, was bending down next to him. "Hey, its ok." He rubbed Arthur's arm.

"Where's Eames?" Arthur muttered, thickly. A groan alerted the two men to the other man's presence. As Cobb helped Arthur to his feet, he began to quickly scan the area. Eames was lying facedown on the grass verge, and groaning softly.

"Eames?" Cobb walked over, and gently placed his hand on his shoulder. "Eames, are you-"

He studied the other man, carefully, as Eames turned his face to his.

Cobb blanched. Eames' face was grey, and his features were contorted in pain. "My...leg.." he gasped.

Cobb leaned down and looked. Eames' right leg was trapped underneath his left, and seemed to be slightly bent. Cobb stood up, and pulled out his cellphone.

"Hello. Ambulance please. Where? J. Edgar Fox High School. And police. Thank you."

* * *

><p>Ariadne jumped at the sound of her cellphone. Frowning, she checked her watch. Reaching across, she snatched the sleek black phone from her bedstand. "Hello?"<p>

"Ari? Arthur."

She sank back on to the pillows, exhaling slowly. "Where- are you?"

"The hospital." Arthur's voice was faint, and tired sounding. "Would you-" she swallowed as he paused. "Come over?"

She checked her bedside clock. "Its nearly 1am!" she said, horrified. "What happened?"

"Long story."

She began getting up. "I'll be over in 30 minutes."

* * *

><p>Robert yawned and stretched. His BlackBerry was emitting a low hum, and propping himself up, he reached for it. "Hello?"<p>

"Robert. Dom Cobb. Where have you been all night?"

Robert blinked. "In my apartment. And I'm currently in bed. And no, there is no-one to verify, as I've been alone all evening."

Cobb swallowed. "Well, I need you to come to the hospital. There are some people who want to talk to you."

"Oh, really? Who?"

"Myself. Arthur. Eames."

Robert laughed, a harsh, dry sound. "Dom. Let me get this straight. It is quarter to one in the morning, and you want me to get up, get dressed, and come over to the hospital? To talk to three people who I will be seeing tomorrow at work?"

"Robert. I mean it. The hospital. Now."

Robert scowled, stung at Cobb's tone. "All right. I'll be there in about half an hour."

* * *

><p>"Ow, oh, God!"<p>

The young nurses' face contorted in sympathy. "Please, Mr Eames, try and relax. We're going to get you to plaster as soon as possible, but we have to find out how badly the bone is broken."

Eames gasped, and turned to the young man. "Well, its bloody painful! That badly enough!"

The nurse nodded. "I appreciate you're in agony. I can give you something."

Eames nodded. "Anything. And all of it!"

* * *

><p>"OK, just breathe for me. That's great."<p>

Arthur exhaled slowly, his mouth covered by the plastic apparatus. As he took another breath, the nurse smiled. "Well, your breathing is normal. I think we can rule out smoke damage."

Arthur leaned back, permitting the mask to be removed from his face. The doctors had insisted on him staying overnight for observation, concerned about damage done by smoke inhalation. Eames, Arthur reckoned, would be in for more than one night.

He shivered. Eames' face had been a sickly grey by the time the paramedics had arrived. Arthur had surmised that when they had been forced off the porch by the explosion, Eames' leg had taken the brunt of both their weights. He swallowed, and reached for the water that had been thoughtfully left by the side of the bed.

"Arthur?"

He looked up, relief crossing his face as Ariadne stood in the doorway. Her face was creased with concern. "What happened? What happened to you? Are you allright?" the words came out in a rush.

He nodded. "I'll be fine." She moved closer, and began to position herself on a chair next to the bed. Without thinking, he reached for her hand, and felt the warmth of her fingers as they closed around his.

"Arthur, I wondered-" she gave his hand a squeeze. "I heard on the news, on the radio, as I drove over...the school-"

Arthur nodded. "Yep, it just went up." He shook his head. "God knows what we're going to do. About the students. How we're going to provide for them now."

Ariadne bit her lip. "But why were you there?"

Arthur swallowed. "I was there with Eames. We were trying to find a few things out."

"Such as?" she pressed.

"We were trying to find out if Robert was working with a student. A student who had a grudge against me." Arthur sighed and leaned back into the pillows.

Ariadne bit her lip, her face paling. "Arthur, you don't think - you don't mean - you think Robert is behind this-"

"Behind what?" a cool voice stated from the doorway.

Arthur and Ariadne turned their heads. Robert Fischer stood, framed in the doorway.

**All readers appreciated, and I'd love some reviews, thank you!**


	45. Chapter 45

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Well, Arthur?" Robert's icy gaze fixed the other man from across the room. "What have I done?"

Arthur coughed, feeling the need to clear his lungs. Now Robert was here, the words he mentally rehearsed seemed to fall flat. "Well-"

"I think I'll get some coffee," Ariadne said, hastily. "Coming Robert?"

The older man looked surprised. "Well, I- I mean-"

"Come with me," she repeated, firmly, ignoring Arthur's slightly shocked expression. She practically gripped Robert's elbow as they left, not looking back towards Arthur. The Vice Principal slumped in his bed, trying to make sense of the situation.

* * *

><p>"Water?"<p>

"Oh, yes please." Eames accepted the glass that Cobb offered, and took a sip. As his throat cleared, he studied the other man. "Shouldn't you be at home? The kids-"

Cobb smiled, tiredly. "Mal has rung and told me to stay here." He took the glass back from Eames. "I need to find out what you and Arthur were doing."

Eames shrugged "Working late."

Cobb looked at him. "Eames, you and I both know that's not going to cut it. Working late? Until 11pm?"

Eames looked at his hands. "Well, in the UK, when Ofsted come, you can end up staying until 2am..."

Cobb coughed, politely. "Eames. Ofsted? Here? Really?"

Feeling slightly defeated, the British man tried to burrow down in his bed. He didn't want to give away the reason why he and Arthur were there - but nor did he want to give the impression that they were complicit in the destruction of the school.

Eames started coughing again, and rasping. Cobb stood up. "I'll go and see if I can get you something." As he walked away, he felt a surge of concern, mixed with worry.

* * *

><p>"Very tactful," Robert commented. He stood next to Ariadne as she fed change into the coffee vending machine, waiting for it to spit out plastic cups and fill them with hot liquid. "Very tactful what you did in there."<p>

Ariadne bit her lip. "I did what I needed to do," she replied, carefully. "Arthur's just been through-"

"Oh, yes, I know," Robert interrupted. "He's a good little boy scout, and all that." He smirked. "If he were a superhero, he'd be Robin. The support, not the main act."

Her grip tightened around the plastic cup. Would she be fired, she wondered, if she threw the already congealing coffee down Robert Fischer's silk shirt?

"They were just doing some work," she replied, picking up the cup. "That's all."

"Really?" There was a sneer in Fischer's voice. "At 11pm?"

She looked at him. "What do you know about this, Robert?"

A stunned silence enveloped the corridor, both standing facing each other. Robert swallowed, tendons in his neck coiling. Ariadne waited.

"What do you mean?" he asked, finally.

"Well, the school - its been destroyed." She looked down at the dark swirl of liquid. "They were lucky to get out alive."

Robert nodded. "Must have been very traumatic for them."

"Yes," she said. "Probably as traumatic when Arthur threw ice cream at you." She took a sip at coffee, noting how Robert's expression was changing from ivory to waxy pale. "But, Robert, it doesn't really add up, does it?"

The older man took a step forward, his thin frame towering over hers. "How do you mean?"

"Well, Arthur has been under investigation for your complaint," she said, boldly. "And tonight, he and Eames nearly died in a fire. I'm trying to find out-"

"If I did it?" Robert shook his head. "I'm beginning to wonder why I was ever interested in you, Ariadne. You're so naive, and dare I say it, stupid, its almost funny." He looked at her, and smiled condescendingly. "I'll see you at work-"

"It doesn't exist anymore," she reminded him, his insults causing her to feel slightly shaken. "Remember?"

"Oh." Robert nodded. "Of course." He began to turn away from her. "Well, I think I might book a vacation. Two weeks in the Bahamas." He shrugged. "Funny, a couple of months ago, I would have asked you to come with me."

Ariadne smiled, tightly. He turned, and walked off, his expression and attitude imperious.

* * *

><p>"You said what?" Arthur leaned back, shaking his head. "I can't-"<p>

"Well, I didn't ask him outright," she said, slightly defensively. "But I did wonder."

Arthur rubbed his face. "Ari, can it wait until I get out of this bed, and-"

"No!" she interrupted, hotly. "Arthur, you have been persecuted by this man for too long, and its all because of me! I should have told him no when he asked me out. Fischer is a spoiled brat who thinks everyone should serve him, and I went along with that!"

"Eames overheard a conversation," Arthur reminded her. "There is no evidence that-"

"Can I join in?" Both looked up. Cobb was walking in. "Just so you both know," he informed them, "Eames' leg is broken. Clean break, across the fiburi."

Arthur swallowed. "How long is he going to be in hospital for?"

"Another couple of nights," Cobb said, sounding weary. "But after that, Mal has stated he should come and stay with us. He can't live by himself with a leg in plaster."

"And the school?"

"I've just received a call from the Superintendent. There's a possibility we could use part of the city hall for the upper classmen for the next month or so."

Arthur rubbed his forehead. "OK."

"But, I still have one question." Cobb looked at him, his voice faltering. He appeared to have forgotten Ariadne was in the room. "Why were you in the school?"

Arthur swallowed. He could not lie to Cobb - he was a colleague, but also a trusted friend. He took a deep breath.

"We thought- Robert was working with a student, to try and frame me. We went to school to use the database." Arthur swallowed, his voice sounded flat, robotic. "And while we there, we heard someone - then the smoke-"

Cobb's face drained of colour. "Arthur, if someone was there, and they-" he paused. "Do you realise how this looks?"

"Yes," Arthur said dully, causing Ariadne to gasp. "If someone died, who is responsible?"

Cobb shook his head. "Let's hope forensics find the truth." His shoulders sagging, he turned and began to leave the room. Ariadne reached out for Arthur's hand, letting his fingers curl round it.

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**I'm going on holiday for a couple of weeks - will pick this up when I return! Thank you to everyone who reads!**


	46. Chapter 46

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for the long delay!**

Arthur swallowed and sat up. Rubbing his forehead, he scanned the briefly unfamiliar surroundings. Where was he? What had happened?

Suddenly, as if in unspoken answer to his thoughts, Mal Cobb appeared. She was holding a steaming cup, and handed it to him. "Here."

"Thank you." As he took the ceramic mug, filled nearly to the brim with black coffee, she sat down next to him. "Thanks for letting me stay here."

She shook her head. "Its no problem. You know we consider you family, not company." She looked at her hands. "Dom called the hospital first thing this morning. We can visit Eames later today."

Arthur took a sip. "Good." He began to stand up. "Where's Ariadne?"

Mal pointed down the hallway. "In the spare room." She began to get up herself. "Dom has a meeting with the Superintendent of the school district today." He caught her eyes: there was an unease in them which unnerved him. "I'm driving over there myself – we can see Eames this afternoon."

Arthur nodded. "Good, I'll call you." He rubbed his face. "I'd better go home and take a shower." He took another swallow of the scalding coffee, and sert the cup on the side. "See you later."

Mal looked at him, frowning slightly. "You can shower here."

"No clean clothes." Arthur said, smiling. Leaning over, he kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, anyway."

She nodded. Shrugging into his jacket, he grabbed his car keys, and headed for the door.

* * *

><p>Dom swallowed as he sat outside the Superintendent's office. His palms were clammy, and he bit his lip. Did he have time to go the washroom and get tissue? Walking into the other man's office, with sweaty palms, was not professional.<p>

After what seemed an eternity, the door to the office opened. "Mr Cobb?" A young woman, dressed in a nondescript blouse, poked her head round the door.

Cobb stood up, adjusting his tie. "Yes?"

"The superintendent will see you now."

* * *

><p>Arthur drove, the radio tuned to a rock station, hoping the music might help to clear his head. His mind raked over the events of the previous evening. He and Arthur had driven back to the school site, to be greeted by forensics and a police team. The site, he noted, was being combed thoroughly.<p>

"What do you conclude?" Cobb remembered Arthur asking one of the detectives. The young man shook his head.

"At the moment, I'm not sure," he'd said, carefully. "Forensics are still searching." He flipped open his notebook, and his face assumed a puzzled expression. "Are you Dominic Cobb?"

"No. Arthur Ogilvie. Vice Principal." Arthur looked at him. "What are you searching for?"

"Human remains." The young man's eyes didn't flinch as he looked directly at Arthur. "If someone was in the premises at the time, and the fire was started deliberately, then its arson – and murder."

Arthur shuddered. "I-"

"Mr Ogilvie," the detective broke in, his tone not devoid of kindness, "May I suggest you go home, and get some sleep? You and Mr Cobb will be contacted." He handed him his card. "If anything turns up, I will call you. Ok?"

Arthur nodded. The trustworthiness of the young detective had to be genuine, he thought. "Thank you, Detective Blake."

Blake smiled. "No problem." Shrugging further into his dark jacket, he moved into the shadows, joining the forensics squad. Arthur shivered. Where they were standing had been the music room. He swallowed, his memories jostling.

"Arthur?" Cobb spoke at his elbow. "Come on. Let's go back to my place. I told Ariadne to take a cab there." Putting his hand on his Vice Principal's arm, the two men moved silently towards their cars.

* * *

><p>Mal had greeted them with kisses, and expressions of concern "What's happened?"<p>

Cobb rubbed his face. "Its a long story." Smiling tiredly, they allowed her to usher them into the kitchen, where, Arthur saw, soup and coffee were waiting for them.

"Eat," she commanded, patting Cobb on the shoulder. "You too, Arthur."

He'd accepted the bowl of hot tomato soup, and then focused on eating whilst Cobb explained, as carefully as he could, the situation at the school. Mal had said nothing, simply got up to refill their quickly drained coffee cups.

"So, what happens next?"

Cobb shook his head, dully. "I don't know." Suddenly, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out, frowning. "Hello?" His face tightened, and he got up. Mal looked at Arthur and smiled, sympathetically.

"More soup?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

She tutted. "You'll waste away." She picked up his bowl and carried it to the sink, then proceeded to pour herself a glass of water, and sat down at the table. Suddenly, Cobb walked back in, his expression tense. Mal looked up.

"What's wrong?"

"Superintendent." He tossed the cell phone on the table, scowling as thought it had bitten him. "He wants to see me tomorrow. About this." He shook his head. "God knows what's going to happen."

His shoulders slumping, he turned and left the room, Mal hurrying after him.

Arthur shook his head, gripping the wheel tightly. He needed to get to the bottom of it, he decided. _Maybe I should have mentioned this to Blake. _Then he stopped himself. Blake was an outsider – this, he argued internally, was coming from the inside.

He stopped in front of an expensive looking apartment block, carefully locking his car door as he got out. Straightening his shoulders, he opened the lobby, and headed for the elevators. He knew which floor he needed.

He rode the elevator to the penthouse, and waited for the metal doors to slide open. Squaring himself, he walked to apartment 312, and rang the doorbell.

After a few minutes, the door opened. Arthur turned, and smiled. Robert Fischer stood in the doorway, dressed relatively casually – black designer jeans, a white shirt, and light jacket. His eyes narrowed as he observed Arthur.

Suddenly, Arthur noticed two expensive pieces of luggage in the hallway – packed and strapped up.

"Robert," he said, his voice casual. "Can I come in?"

Robert shook his head. "No," he said, almost curtly. "Not for coffee, tea, or water. I'm going away."

Arthur smiled tightly. "No. No, you're not."

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	47. Chapter 47

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"I'm sorry?" Robert repeated. His ice blue eyes bored into Arthur's. "Would you care to repeat that?"

"You're not going anywhere," Arthur said, firmly. "Not until you tell me why you feel the need to go in such a hurry."

"I told you." Robert's expression was settling into one of exasperation and annoyance. "There is no need for me to be here. The school is a wreck, its nearly the end of the semester, so I thought-"

"You'd just abandon your responsibilities," Arthur said, coldly. "Typical. Why did I expect anything else?"

"Oh, so this is just to give me a lecture about how I should be more noble and self-sacrificing?" Robert arched an eyebrow. "No thanks, Arthur. I hear enough from you at work. Remember the students, put them first..." He shook his head. "Sorry, but it doesn't work here."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Robert. If you despise your job, and everyone involved in it, why do you do it?"

Robert shrugged. "Passes the time." He pulled his passport out of his jacket pocket. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a plane to catch-"

Arthur lost his patience. Moving forward, he grabbed Robert's shoulders. "I told you. You're not going anywhere!"

Robert's face flamed with anger. "Don't get physical with me, Arthur! Don't forget what happened the last time! Do you want to be permanently out of a job?!"

Stunned, Arthur took a step back. Robert smiled, smugly.

"Yes, you really need to calm that temper of yours. Now, I don't know why you think you need to come round here and behave like this, but I am going away. Don't worry, I'll send you a postcard."

Arthur watched as the older man picked up his luggage. He glanced at Arthur. "See yourself out." Without hesitating, Robert began to move towards the door, acting as though the other man had already left.

"Hey, Robert," Arthur called after him. "If the fire is nothing to do with you, why are you leaving?"

Robert stopped dead in his tracks. Arthur folded his arms, and waited a response.

"Its nothing to do with me," the other man practically spat out. "Nothing! Why would I burn down a school? I could buy the damn place!"

Arthur stared at Robert's leather clad back. Suddenly, several thoughts began to lock into place.

"Yes, Robert," he said softly. "You could." Suddenly, his mind began to race, and he knew where he needed to go. "You go on vacation. Have a nice trip!"

Before Robert could protest, Arthur had pushed past him and raced towards the door.

* * *

><p>"Found anything?"<p>

The forensic analyst pushed her glasses back onto her head, and frowned at Blake. He was hovering at the scene, unsure of what he could look for, but unwilling to interfere.

"No," she replied, slightly tersely. Standing up, she faced the detective. "The site is a mess. The fire started in the basement, hence causing the collapse of-"

"Whoa, wait," Blake said, feeling rattled. "In the basement?"

She nodded. "Look over there." Blake followed the direction of her pointing finger. "That's approximately where the fire started. Have a look. See if you can find anything...interesting."

Blake hunched his shoulders, and hurried to the pile of debris. He knelt down, casting his eye over what appeared to be an unassuming pile of rubble. Suddenly, he blinked.

Lying in amongst the ash and wreckage was a wallet. Swallowing, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, and carefully wrapped it round his hand. Leaning over, he picked the wallet up, and stood up, then walked over to the forensic officer.

"Got a plastic bag?"

"Uh-huh." Reaching into her unzipped case, she pulled out a plastic sheet. "What did you find?"

"A wallet." Blake bagged his prize. "Here."

"Thanks." She put into the stash of evidence. "We'll get it analysed, and a report back to you."

* * *

><p>"Eames?"<p>

The Drama specialist blinked. He'd been dozing off, an effect of the pain killers. Opening his eyes, he saw Arthur. "Well, hello. Where are my grapes? Or bananas? Or any of the other nice things you do for people who are ill?"

Arthur shook his head. "Eames. Good to see you're awake. Now, listen to me."

"Must I? We're not at work."

Arthur smiled. The jibes from the other man were a clear sign that he was over his shock, and starting to recover. "No, listen to me. I went to see Robert."

"Nice." Suddenly, Eames blinked. "Robert? Why?"

"Because..." Arthur paused. "I'm sure he had something to do with the fire. And I think I know why."

"So do I." Eames sat up properly, wincing at the pain in his broken leg. "He doesn't like working for a living. Neither do I, but I wouldn't go to such extreme lengths."

"He doesn't have to work for a living." Arthur looked at Eames. "He's the heir to a billionaire fortune. He could spend his life partying and dating supermodels."

Eames snorted. "I'd hope the likes of Kate Moss would have better taste." He narrowed his eyes. "What's your point?"

"What if Robert wanted to discredit me, Cobb, the school, to get some community backing? What if he used Ariadne to get at me, then proceeded to make out he was being victimised, so the district would think he was being bullied?"

"I'd think it was pretty funny. He's the biggest bully I've ever encountered."

"And then...the school burns down." Arthur looked at him. "And who owns most of the free land in this town?"

Eames blinked. "Fischer-Morrow."

"Yes!" Arthur leaned forward. "And if the new school was built with money from them, who would be trying to make himself Principal, based on the fact that he paid for it, and that Cobb and I are a disgrace to the profession?"

Eames blinked. "Oh my God," he said, softly. "You may be right."

* * *

><p>"Detective?"<p>

Blake looked up from his crime report. "Yes?"

"Your wallet. Or, the one just back from forensics."

* * *

><p>"Arthur, this is just insane," Ariadne told him. They were sitting in his apartment. She looked at him, uneasily. "How can you be sure that's what Fischer's thinking? He hates teaching!"<p>

"He loves being in charge though," Arthur countered. "And he's been pushed out of Fischer Morrow, thanks to his father's business partner." He took a sip of wine. "Still, we can-"

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "One moment," he said, smiling. Putting the wine glass down, he went to the door.

Blake stood on the other side. Arthur's eyes widened. "Detective. What can I do for you?"

Blake looked at him, biting his lip. "Mr Ogilvie, I'm really sorry to come so late, but there's something you should know."

"What is it?" Arthur asked, puzzled.

The young detective looked nervous. "Sir, we found a wallet this afternoon, at the school. It would have been in the basement, where the fire started."

"Yes?" A prickle of nervousness was beginning to work its way down Arthur's spine.

"Well," Blake bit his lip. "It looks like its Dom Cobb's."

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	48. Chapter 48

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed. "Dom's?" he spoke disbelievingly. "But, he's alive, I spoke to him-"

"I know." The young detective looked at Arthur, his tone reassuring. "I'm sorry, Mr Ogilvie. But the fact his wallet was found at the source of the fire is an indication that he may have been involved in its starting."

Arthur rubbed his forehead. "Detective, I think you'd better come in." He stood aside, letting the other man enter. "Please, have a seat. Coffee?"

Blake smiled. "Very kind of you Sir, but no. I just want to get this cleaned up."

Arthur nodded. The two men sat down. Ariadne looked at them. "I can leave if-"

"No," Blake interrupted. "That won't be necessary." He looked at Arthur. "I just need to get some background. What can you tell me about Dominic Cobb?"

Arthur blinked. "He's the Principal. He wouldn't burn down the school."

Blake nodded. "I see." He rubbed his chin. "There are several other members of staff I need to question. Mr James Eames, who is currently in hospital, and a Mr Robert Fischer."

"Fischer is on his way to the Bahamas." Arthur shrugged. "He couldn't get out of here fast enough."

Blake nodded. "Well, when he returns, he'll be questioned. We need to know where he was during the time of the blaze starting." He looked at Arthur. "Where were you, Mr Ogilvie?"

"I was at the school." Arthur locked eyes with the detective. "And so was Eames. We were-" he paused. Looking at the other man's honest, open face, he told him the reason. "We were trying to trace a student through the database records."

Blake nodded, and pulled out a notebook. Ariadne stood up. "I'm going to get some water. Arthur? Detective?"

"Oh, please," Blake said, nodding. She walked into the kitchen. Arthur swallowed.

"So, you were trying to trace records. Why?"

Arthur leaned forward.

"I think -" he spoke carefully - "I think Robert Fischer is trying to get a new school, with himself as Principal."

Blake's eyebrows went up. He looked at Arthur. "Mr Ogilvie, that is some claim. What's your evidence?"

Ariadne re-entered the room, carrying two glasses of water. Setting one down in front of the detective, she sat next to Arthur. He turned to her, and to his surprise and relief, she laced her fingers through his.

Blake picked up the glass. "So, what's your evidence?"

* * *

><p>Cobb entered the house. "Mal?"<p>

"In here!"

He entered the living room. His wife got up, a worried look on her lovely face, turning to relief. "What happened with the Superintendent?" she asked, after he'd hugged her.

Cobb buried his face in her shoulder. "Its...not good."

She pulled away from him. "What is it?" Her face betrayed her anxiety. "Dom. Talk to me!"

He sighed, and sank down on the couch. "The school has to be shut, in its present site. Its dangerous to re-build it." He bit his lip. "Only, district don't have the money to spare for a new school."

Mal sat next to him, her face puzzled, and angry. "But there has to be! The students here need a school!"

Cobb nodded. "They do. And they will get one. Someone has put in a bid to build a school, privately. Of course, the price tag also includes that the benefactor is free to sit on the board of Governors, and exercise power over who is hired."

Mal looked at his face, searchingly. "And who is this benefactor?"

Cobb gritted his teeth. "Maurice Fischer."

* * *

><p>"So, you were suspended-" Blake said, looking at Arthur - "for throwing ice cream over Mr Fischer?" His mouth twisted, and Arthur could have sworn he was trying not to laugh.<p>

"Yes, that's right," Arthur admitted. "He claimed assault, and got me suspended. During that period, he managed to get himself installed as Acting Vice Principal."

Blake noted it down. "OK. And then what happened?"

"Well, he proceeded to-" Arthur closed his eyes. "Let's just say it was bad."

Blake nodded. "I see." He closed the notebook. "But you were re-instated?"

"Yes."

"OK." Blake stood up, and put his notebook back in his pocket. "I'm going to have to take this back to the station. You've given me anecdotal evidence, but I really need to get to the bottom of this."

Arthur stood up. "Detective, I know its sounds far fetched, but-"

"He was paying a student." Ariadne's voice broke in, and both men turned. "Arthur, you need to mention that. That Eames overheard Fischer talking to a student, telling him to do something...and then the school was destroyed."

Blake set his mouth in a line. "Mr Ogilvie, you need to tell me everything. Is this true?"

"Yes."

"OK. Date, time?"

Arthur gave the information.

"But, I do have to ask you something."

Arthur blinked. "What is it?"

"I need to question Dom Cobb." Blake looked slightly embarrassed. "If the wallet was planted, I need to find out who he thinks did it, and how they got it."

Arthur sighed. "Of course."

* * *

><p>"Dom, please." Mal's tone was soothing, but it was having little effect on her husband. "There is no guarantee that Robert will get the school."<p>

Cobb shook his head, and stood up. "Every chance. I should have listened to Arthur!" He turned to her, holding a glass of scotch. "He suspected Fischer was up to something. Ever since that first incident...and now-"

"Calm down!" Mal stood up. "Nothing has been proved yet! You'll be saying Fischer started the fire next!"

Cobb blinked. "Or got someone to. That's why Arthur and Eames were in the school - if they had died-"

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Cobb sighed. "I'll go."

As he opened the door, he blinked. Arthur stood on the doorstep, with Blake. "What is this?"

"Mr Cobb," Blake began. "I need to talk to you. Its about your wallet." He held up the plastic bag. "We found it, where the fire started." Blake looked embarrassed. "I need to know-I need to ask some questions."

Cobb nodded. "Of course. I'll get my coat."

* * *

><p>Robert yawned, the warmth of the sun warming his face. The hotel bed was luxurious, and he stretched out. Suddenly, the sharp ping of his BlackBerry disturbed his thoughts. Squinting, he reached out and grabbed it off the bedside.<p>

He frowned. An email had come through. He clicked it.

_Plans for school going through. Be prepared for a promotion!_

__Smiling, Robert clicked off. Yawning, he turned over, and closed his eyes.

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	49. Chapter 49

**Disclaimer**:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Cobb swallowed as he sat opposite the young detective. Blake's face was serious, but not unkind. In fact, with his dark hair and slightly intense look, he reminded him of Arthur.

"Mr Cobb," Blake began, clearing his throat. "Where were you the night the fire started?"

Cobb nodded. "I was at home. With my wife, and children."

Blake nodded. "Thank you. Had you reported your wallet missing?"

Cobb swallowed. "No," he admitted. "It went missing at work, and I was concerned that if a student had taken it, it could be very difficult for them." He looked at the young detective, who nodded. "I preferred to order new plastic, and mention it to the bank."

Blake swallowed. "I see. Did Mr Ogilvie and Mr Eames mention they were going to be at the school?"

Cobb shook his head. "No. But its not unusual for Arthur to work late - very late. I suspect Eames was drafted in to keep him company."

"OK." Blake shut his notebook. "Mr Cobb, this is a sensitive question. What are relations like at school between the Faculty and Robert Fischer?"

Cobb started. "They are...interesting." Blake's face quirked, and Cobb could have sworn he was trying to conceal a smile. "Robert does not have the easiest time, but he doesn't really help himself."

"Really?" Blake raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"Well, it doesn't help that he's the son of the district's biggest beneficiary, and works part time. It also doesn't help that his teaching methods are questionable. He made a charge against Arthur based on something completely ridiculous, and the district supported him."

Blake nodded. "Right. Mr Cobb...do you have any idea who started the fire?"

Cobb bit his lip. "No, I don't."

"Fine." Blake closed his notebook. "Your wallet is down at forensics, we need to run a few prints." He smiled. "That's it. Thank you."

Cobb got up, feeling slightly shaky. As he exited, he made a note to call Arthur.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this is a good idea?"<p>

Arthur frowned. He and Eames had been sitting in the car, for half an hour. Arthur pulled his jacket closely round him. "Yep."

Eames shook his head. "I don't like it. We have no reason to turn up at a student's house-"

"We do if its to do with the fire. We can't expect Blake to do all the leg work." He turned to Eames. "You're sure it was this kid?"

"Yes," Eames muttered. "Shall we?"

Swallowing, Arthur opened the car door, and got out, folloed by Eames. As they approached the one level house, they heard voices. Raised, angry voices.

"I don't care what you're doing, you little shit!" yelled a man's voice. "Go and get me some beer!"

"Dad-" a teenager's voice quavered, "Dad, you've had enough, I think-"

"Don't you-" suddenly, Arthur heard a punch being thrown.

Eames' eyes narrowed. "Heard enough." Before Arthur could stop him, he'd thrown his weight at the door, causing it to shudder and swing open. Arthur's eyes widened. A man, clearly drunk, was holding a teenage boy's collar, his fist raised, ready to strike.

"Hey!" Arthur snapped. "Stop that!"

The man lessened his grip, his eyes widening at Eames and Arthur's interest. "Who you?" he slurred.

"I'm Arthur Ogilvie, this is Eames. I'm Vice Principal at your son's school, and if you don't step away from him, I will have social services round in five minutes." He looked at Eames. "Actually, I think I'll notify them now. Eames!"

Eames nodded. "Fine." He pulled his cell phone out.

The man shook his head. "What the-" he was swaying, clearly heavily inroxicated. He shuffled to a battered looking sofa, and collapsed. His eyes closed.

Arthur turned to face the teenager. He was swallowing, "Mr Ogi-"

"Dean," Arthur said gently, "do you know why we're here? Heard about the school?"

The boy's face paled. "I- I-"

"How much did Fischer promise you?" Eames broke in. Arthur threw him a look.

The boy's facade crumbled. "A thousand dollars," he whispered.

Arthur rubbed his face. "OK," he said, his voice quiet. "Listen, you need to come with us. You need to tell someone, OK?"

Dean nodded. He was completely accepting, Arthur noticed. Not even protesting. It was as though he were glad he'd been caught out. "Yes." His voice faltered. "My Dad..."

Arthur shook his head. "Dean, you can't stay here. You know that."

The teenager nodded. "Come on." Arthur said, gently. As the three of them left, Eames made sure he'd shut the door, firmly.

* * *

><p>Arthur looked up as Blake exited the interview room. "Well?"<p>

Blake swallowed. "He's not denying starting the fire. He's not denying stealing Dom Cobb's wallet. And he doesnn't deny that Fischer promised to pay him." He bit his lip. "I'm not sure what the charge will be." He looked at Arthur. "What made you go and find him?"

Arthur swallowed. "We were scanning the database the night the fire started," he admitted. "Eames overheard Fischer in the coffee shop. He vaguely recognised him, but when he saw the picture..." he looked at Blake. "He can't go home."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Violent father."

Blake nodded. "OK. I know of a boys' home, reckon I could get him a bed there, at least for tonight. And we have to contact social services, all right?"

Arthur nodded. "Thank you."

"Go." Blake nodded. "Leave us to deal with this."

Arthur, feeling exhausted, began to walk back to his car. On the drive back to his apartment, he found himself musing the bizarre sequence of events over in his mind, pondering. He braked in the parking lot, and began to enter.

As he put the key in the lock, he smiled. He could smell lemon. As he entered, Ariadne got off the couch.

"Arthur!" She walked up to him, hugging him tightly. "Where- how?"

He smiled, tiredly. "Its been...long."

She bit her lip. "Do you want me to go?"

"No." He shook his head, and pulled her close. "you're the most important thing to me. Stay."

Suddenly, his cell rang. "Oh, Cobb." He shook his head.

"You going to answer it?" Ariadne asked, tentatively.

Arthur, feeling a sudden rush of defiance, clicked it off.

"No." He smiled at her. "Not this time." Pulling her to him, their lips met in a deep kiss.

**All reviews and readers appreciated, thank you!**


	50. Chapter 50

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Arthur..." Ariadne smiled as they curled up together. "I really think you ought to call Cobb. Tell him what's happened."

Arthur shrugged. "I'm not sure if there's any point." He looked at her, and sighed. "Its a case of leaving it in the hands of the police, and John seems to have it in hand."

Ariadne nodded. "Yes. You're Batman, he's Robin." She took a sip of water. "But...that makes Fischer...the Joker?"

Arthur shook his head. "With his ability to scare the students, he's more like the Scarecrow." He reached for his wineglass. "Still, let's forget about it now. We have got some evidence on Fischer...and also a student whose been taken away from a bad home situation."

She leaned over, and kissed him. "Absolutely."

"So..." Arthur began to gently brush Ariadne's cheek. "Let's just...enjoy this evening, OK?"

She nodded. "Sounds perfect."

Leaning forward, he began to wind his arms around her. Within a few short moments, the school, and Fischer, were the furthest thing from their minds.

* * *

><p>Cobb turned over in bed, his arm lightly brushing against Mal. She smiled and moved towards him. "Relax," she whispered. "Its still early."<p>

"How early?" he mumbled. She began to raise herself up, and squinted at the alarm clock. "Its half past six."

Cobb groaned, softly. "Kids will be awake soon." He smiled as Mal began to rain down kisses on his face. "And you're not going to make it easy for me to get up, are you?"

"No," she smiled. "Not really-"

Suddenly, his cellphone began to vibrate. He sighed. "This had better be Arthur." Reaching to the side, he scooped the tiny electronic device off the bedside table, fumbling to find the button. "Hello?"

"Mr Cobb? Sorry, I know its early, but I-"

"Hang on," Cobb interrupted. "Who is this?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. This is Detective Blake. Arthur contacted me last night, he brought in a suspect-"

"What?!" Cobb was wide awake now, and last vestiges of sleep gone. "What happened? And Arthur did what?!" He turned his head. Mal was sitting bolt upright, biting her lip. She laid a placating hand on her husband's arm, recognising his growing anger. Cobb nodded, and she relaxed.

"OK," Cobb said, still unable to believe what he was being told. "OK, thank you. I'll be there. Yes. Thank you Detective."

He clicked off, and turned to Mal. "What is it?"

"Arthur seems to think he's a detective," Cobb said, almost jumping out of bed. "He went to a student's house last night, and had him taken away from his father, to be interviewed." He rubbed his forehead. "I need to go and see him."

"Dom, Its not even 7am!"

"I know, but at least I know he'll be in!" Cobb looked at her, his expression confused and angry. "I could always trust Art, could rely on him. Since when did he go renegade?"

"You don't know he has-" Mal stopped, recognising her husband was unwilling to listen. Cobb was stalking round the bed room, scooping up clothes. "Dom, you need to calm down."

He turned, and saw the anguished expression on her face. He began to relax his grip on the shirt he was holding. "You're right." He rubbed his forehead, and sank down onto the edge of the bed. "Oh, God."

Mal sat down next to him, and reached for his hand. "Remember, you hired Arthur. You hired him because he's trustworthy, reliable, solid. He has a reason for the things he does. He always has."

Cobb turned and looked at her. She smiled, but there was no concealing the worry in her large, dark eyes. He touched her cheek. "I'll listen to him," he promised. "I won't go in and start yelling."

She nodded. "Just remember that. He's a good man."

Cobb smiled. "The best."

* * *

><p>"So, pancakes? Or cereal?"<p>

Ariadne looked at Arthur as she entered the kitchen, one of his shirts concealing her tiny frame. "Are you offering to cook for me?" she giggled. "If so...pancakes."

Arthur smirked. "Predictable." He opened the refrigerator, and began to pull out ingredients. Ariadne walked over to the coffee percolator, and began to to fill two mugs with the hot, dark liquid. Arthur started carefully measuring out milk, and placed it in a mixing bowl.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Arthur frowned, and checked his watch. "Its 7am. Ignore it."

Ariadne bit her lip. "What if its Blake?"

Arthur shook his head. "He'd call if he wanted to come by." He concentrated on measuring flour. Suddenly, there was another knock. Arthur sighed, exasperated. "Stay here, ok?"

She nodded. He walked to the door, and opened it. "Cobb!"

"Arthur." The Principal took in his deputy's dishevelled appearance - Arthur was still clad in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, and his hair was slightly mussed. "I need to talk to you."

Arthur swallowed. "OK." He nodded. "Come on in."

As he led Cobb into the kitchen, he noticed Ariadne had discreetly vacated the kitchen. He pulled a mug off the shelf. "Coffee?"

Cobb nodded. "Thanks." He seated himself at the breakfast bar. He stared into the mug of liquid. "OK," he said, finally, "why did you get a student taken from his father?"

Arthur merely picked up his coffee mug. "He's being abused. Eames and I turned up,, his father was drunk, ranting, threatening to hit him. He had a bruise on his face. What was I supposed to do? You're a father. Would you let a child stay in the situation?"

Cobb shook his head. "No. But what's the connection to Fischer?"

Arthur swallowed, and seated himself opposite Cobb. "I-" he paused. "Fischer paid this student to start the fire. He took your wallet to plant as evidence."

Cobb blinked. "You're not serious."

Arthur nodded. "I am."

"Jesus," Cobb said, softly. He picked up his mug. "Call Eames. I want him here right now." His lips tightened as he surveyed the kitchen. "Sorry about your breakfast."

Arthur smiled, tightly. "Can't be helped."

* * *

><p>Blake carefully checked the photo. Robert Fischer was a striking man, he mused, and easy, therefore, to spot. He swallowed, and began to walk to the arrivals hall.<p>

He checked his watch. Fischer's plane had arrived ten minutes previously - it would probably take him half an hour to clear immigration and baggage. He stood, his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently.

A few people began to trickle into the main concourse. Mostly tanned, and smiling. Blake watched, scanning the crowd. Suddenly, he noticed a tall, pale, slender man, whose ice blue eyes looked tired. He checked the photo.

Bingo.

Blake began to move towards Robert, his badge clutched in his hand. As Robert prepared to walk towards the taxi rank, Blake walked in front of him, completely blocking his path. Fischer looked at him, irritably.

"Excuse me, would you mind-"

"Robert Fischer?" Blake held up his badge. "I need to ask you some questions."

Fischer stared at him, haughtily. "You can ask them tomorrow. I've just had a thirteen hour flight, now if you'll excuse me-"

"Mr Fischer, that's not how it works." Blake's tone was forceful. "You won't talk to me at the station, we talk here. But no matter how jetlagged you are, you are talking to me."

Robert smirked, and raised an eyebrow. "Well," he said, "I can give you five minutes, Detective."

Blake smiled. "Trust me, Mr Fischer. Its more than that."

**All readers appreciated, and I'd love some reviews, thank you!**


	51. Chapter 51

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

John smiled patiently as Fischer sat down opposite him. The room was small, and sparsely furnished. The detecitve watched as the older man stretched, and leaned forward.

"Is this going to take long?" Fischer's tone was irritated, breaking into Blake's thoughts. "I do want to go home at some point."

Blake smiled, and leaned forward. "Mr Fischer. You're here due to the fact that your workplace burned down, and you hurriedly left the country. I have some routine questions to ask - the same as those I've asked other members of staff. Now, its entirely your choice as to how long or hard this becomes."

Fischer scowled. "All right."

* * *

><p>"Dom, I swear I didn't go there with the intention of calling in social services, but-" Arthur swallowed, not really wanting to meet the Principal's eyes. Eames coughed, sitting next to him.<p>

"But you did." Cobb placed his hands flat on the table. "That's what we - I - have to accept. That you called in social services and had a student remove-"

"Removed from a father who wanted to beat seven shades out of him," Eames interjected. "I think, on balance, we did the right thing." He leaned forward, taking control of the conversation. "You're always saying that part of our job is to support the students. This was a student who needed support, needed help. Did you really think Arthur and I were going to simply walk away?"

Dom swallowed, Arthur watching as the muscles in his neck contracted. Finally, he exhaled. "You're right." He looked at the two of them. "I'm lucky that such principled men work with me."

Arthur blinked. "Does this mean...?"

"It means that I will be trying to get to the bottom of what's happened," Dom interrupted. "But it does also mean that I can point out to district that the two of you were behaving in what were the student's best interests."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you."

"We're going to leave Robert to Detective Blake." Cobb got up, assuming once more the tight lipped stance of the Principal. "But, I have to go. I need to find out whether the accommodation I've applied for will be ready for us. Its possible the school will not be ready for another month."

"Hang on," Eames interrupted. "You're finding us somewhere else we can teach?"

"Of course." Cobb shook his head. "Didn't think you were going to get a long vacation, did you Eames?"

"Well, I, er-"

"Of course you didn't." Cobb had a half smile as he began to walk to the door.

* * *

><p>"So, Mr Fischer." Blake studied the man sitting opposite him. "How long have you been teaching at Fox?"<p>

Fischer shrugged. "Four years, maybe."

Blake nodded. "And...you enjoy it?"

Fischer leaned forward. "I don't work because I have to, detective. I work because I want to."

Blake narrowed his eyes. "So...you don't bear a grudge against the school?"

Fischer leaned forward. "Only in the sense its run by a tin pot despot and his little lap dog."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"There is bad management at the school," Fischer said, calmly. "I just think its time for a change."

"And you really think that?" Blake's tone was calm, but he was sizing Fischer up, wondering if he could convince him to reveal more than he clearly intended.

"Sometimes, Detective, a change is needed." Fischer shrugged. "That's all."

Blake began to smile. "I'll bet it is. Now, let's discuss the way the fire started."

"Well, it was in the basement. Its dangerous-"

"How do you know that?"

"What?" Robert blinked, suddenly looking surprised. "What was that?"

"How did you know it was in the basement?"

"I- uh-"

* * *

><p>"So they're going to lend us the building?" Arthur couldn't believe his ears. "You're serious?"<p>

Cobb nodded. "We don't have a choice. The juniors and seniors need to be educated - especially the seniors. As for the freshmen and sophomores, we can organise some home tutoring programmes."

Arthur blinked. "Yes. So...when do you want us to start?"

"I want the senior class to start in a couple of days. I'm going to organise the contact of parents. Get Yusuf, and the other subject leaders. You need to start revising what you're going to teach in alternative conditions."

Arthur sighed. "OK. And-"

"Arthur." There was a slightly teasing note in Cobb's voice. "Did you think you were going to have a long vacation?"

"Never crossed my mind," Arthur said, grinning as he winked at Ariadne. "See you tomorrow!"

He clicked off his iPhone, and turned to the Art specialist. "Looks like we're starting work again. Cobb has sorted us some temporary accommodation."

She nodded. "Great. All years?"

"No, seniors and juniors." Arthur rubbed his forehead. "But, its going to take work to re-shape what we teach. I need to get hold of Yusuf ."

"Good idea. Oh, and Arthur?"

"Yes, Eames?"

"Maybe we could order pizza? Its after 7."

"Now, that's an even better idea."

"Glad you think so. Oh, and what's the new accommodation?"

Arthur couldn't help but break into a grin. "The Fischer mansion."

"What?" Eames couldn't believe it. "Maurice Fischer is lending the use of his mansion...?"

"Yes. Which makes me think his son was behind this, all by himself."

Suddenly, his iPhone chimed into the conversation. Arthur grabbed the sleek device. "Hello?"

"Arthur? Blake. I've arrested Robert. Can you and Dom come to the station?"

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading, reviews appreciated!<strong>


	52. Chapter 52

**Disclaimer**: **Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur swallowed as Cobb drove them to the police station. He shifted, pulling his jacket around him, closely. Cobb cast a sharp glance at him.

"You ok?"

Arthur shrugged. "little bit cold, that's all." He lapsed into silence as the journey continued, but his mind was swirling with thoughts. Cobb kept focused on the road, saying nothing.

"You know, if Robert admits to anything..." Arthur bit his lip. "What's going to happen to the school?"

Cobb kept his eyes on the road. "That's a bridge to cross if it comes to it. For now, we'll have to let him have the benefit of the doubt." He cast a quick glance at Arthur. "But, there are other things that still need to be cleared up. For example, his original accusation against you."

Arthur groaned. "Oh, yes. All this over a bowl of ice cream." He shook his head. "Remind me never to gatecrash anyone's date ever again."

Despite himself, Cobb grinned. "Cut it out. You had to be there. You just need to take the initiative more. Make the first move in future."

Arthur smiled. "Absolutely."

* * *

><p>"This is ridiculous!" Robert stormed, getting up. "I am being held here against my will! I demand you let me leave!"<p>

Blake studied Robert. The older man's pale skin was flushing an angry red, and he could tell his anger was building. "I'm sorry, Mr Fischer. But I must insist you stay here until-"

"You insist!" Robert almost snarled. "Who are you? Just some little jumped up detective in a cheap suit!" He turned his back, and sat down.

Blake swallowed. Resorting to personal insults was not something he wanted. Trying to remain calm, he took a deep breath.

"Mr Fischer. If insulting me makes you feel better, then fine. But may I remind you that you are here under an investigation of a charge of arson. I need you to remain calm."

Fischer glared at him, his eyes narrowed. "You'll be sorry for this," he growled. Lowering his head, he began studying his watch - which, Blake had noted, was a genuine Rolex.

He sighed and leaned back against the wall. Fischer, he was noting, was effectively a spoiled child. He couldn't help but wonder about the parenting - or lack of it - that had resulted in this situation.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the interview room door. "One moment," he cautioned the other man, and opening the door, left. A uniformed officer was outside. "Detective? Peter Browning is here. He says his godson is being held against his will, and is threatening to make an official complaint."

Blake rubbed his forehead. _One thing about the rich - they always have backup. _He smiled tiredly. "Of course, I'll come and see him."

Blake followed the uniformed officer down the hallway. Standing in the reception area was a florid, paunchy man, whose red face and aggravated expression betrayed his emotions. He glared at Blake

"Mr Browning?" the uniformed officer said, politely. "This is Detective Blake, who-"

"What is the meaning of this?" Browning almost thundered. "You're the upstart who arrested my godson! I'll have your career for this!"

Blake swallowed. "Well, I'm sorry, but I can assure you what I did was based upon evidence." He spoke calmly, but his blood was pulsing and thudding in his ears. "He has been arrested in connection with an investigation at the High School."

Browning glared at him, angrily. "I want to see him. Now!"

Blake realised he had no choice. "Of course. Please, this way."

* * *

><p>Arthur got out, and stood by as Cobb locked the car. "Right, this way."<p>

As the two men approached the station, Arthur glanced at Cobb. "Reckon we'll find out the truth?"

Cobb shrugged. "Hopefully. Come on." As they entered the building, the desk sergeant looked at them. "May I help you?"

Cobb nodded. "Dom Cobb, Arthur Ogilvie. We're here to see Detective Blake."

"Of course." The sergeant nodded. "I'll let him know that you're here."

Cobb stood quietly, as Arthur looked round the small building. Feelings of impatience were starting to crowd into his mind.

"You know, this could be..." he broke off, as the Sergeant re-appeared. "Yes?"

"Follow me," the Sergeant said. As they walked down the hallway, Arthur swallowed. After a few moments, the Sergeant knocked on the door, and Blake opened it.

"Yes?"

"Mr Cobb, and Mr Ogilvie, Detective."

Blake nodded. "Thank you." He looked at the two other men. "Please come in."

Cobb entered first, followed by Arthur. As they did, Arthur saw Robert Fischer, glaring at them both.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	53. Chapter 53

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

The silence in the room was deafening.

Arthur, unwilling to look at Robert at first, cast a quick glance to John. The young detective was sitting calmly, and looking at his notes.

Arthur felt Cobb shift slightly. Finally, he heard the Principal speak.

"Robert, no-one's accusing you-"

Blake interrupted. "Excuse me, Mr Cobb." With a deft movement, he flicked a switch, and Arthur realised with shock that they were being recorded.

"The date is February 7th, 2012. Time is 8pm." John paused, then continued. "This interview is being conducted by Detective John Blake. I am questioning Robert Fischer, Arthur Ogilvie, and Dominic Cobb in connection with the fire at J E Fox High. Accompanying Mr Fischer is Mr Robert Browning."

Robert leaned forward. "I have nothing to say, Detective."

John exhaled slowly. "Mr Fischer claims to have nothing to say." He opened his file, and began pulling out photographs, scattering them on the table. The other men blinked, and began to look.

"Detective Blake is showing the interviewees photographs from the fire. The photographs depict that a great deal of damage occurred, to the brick work and interior of the school."

Arthur gulped as he looked at the evidence. A science lab - Yusuf's lab - completely gutted into a mass of black, charred, ashes. Ariadne's art studio, with the work that she and her students had painstakingly completed destroyed. He rubbed his face.

"And here is another one."

It was of the downstairs basement. Arthur blinked - he could see what looked like a blanket, and packets of junk food scattered on the floor. He swallowed, and looked up.

"Its evidence that someone was in the basement, and probably left, before the fire." Blake's voice was steady, but Arthur could see a wary look in his eyes. "What I need to find out is who are they, and what were they doing there?"

Robert smirked. "Mr Blake. You really think I know anything about this? Probably a vagrant."

"Why would a vagrant sleep in a school basement, Mr Fischer?" Blake countered, leaning forward. "You do realise that they could be prosecuted under child protection laws?"

Fischer leaned back, scowling. "No, Mr Blake, I did not know." He shook his head. "Why should I?"

"Because, Mr Fischer-" Blake swallowed - "I have reason to believe that a student may have been living in the basement. And I have reason to believe that they may have been aided and abetted in starting the fire."

"Really?" Fischer yawned, displaying a casual arrogance. "How?"

"With money," Blake said, calmly. "I have reason to believe that a student was paid a total of a thousand dollars to start the fire."

Fischer looked at him, impassively. "Well, that's very interesting. Mr Blake, you're wasted as a detective. You should take up writing science fiction novels."

Blake shifted in his seat. "Mr Fischer, please don't make light of this. If a student was bribed into starting a fire, its a criminal offence. The person who instigated it could be facing a charge of bribery and intended arson."

Fischer nodded. "I agree. Clearly, a dangerous maniac."

"Or just a greedy one."

Arthur turned and looked at John, who was smiling. Cobb shifted in his seat. Browning's mouth flew open. "Excuse me, Detective-"

"A greedy one." Blake sounded frighteningly calm. "A greedy man who decided that he could afford to bribe a kid from an abusive home, and to pin the blame on some one else."

"Oh, really?" Fischer spoke mockingly. "And how would I do that?"

Suddenly, the atmosphere was electrified. Arthur cast a quick glance at Cobb, who coughed, shifting in his seat. Browning glared at Robert, his eyes narrowed.

"Robert-"

"Go on, detective," Robert said, almost mockingly. "You seem to know everything. How would I pin the blame on someone else?"

"Why do you assume I think you did it, Mr Fischer?" Blake's voice was eerily calm.

"Well, you seem to have made your mind up!" A dull, angry flush was spreading across the other man's face. Blake swallowed, the tendons in his neck moving.

"No, Mr Fischer, I'm a detective. I'm not allowed to believe in coincidences. Despite the fact that you disappeared out of the country just after the school burned down." Blake met the other man's eyes. "Its due to this."

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a plastic bag. Inside was a small black object. He tossed it on the table.

"Does anyone recognise that?"

"Yes." Dom spoke softly. "Its my wallet."

"That stupid kid!" Fischer shouted. "I told him to destroy it!"

Suddenly, he fell silent. Browning looked at him, horror on his face. "Robert, are you saying..."

Fischer covered his face with his hands.

"Well," Blake said softly, "if you want to admit to anything, now is the time, Mr Fischer."

Fischer turned to Arthur.

"Arthur. I bribed a student to burn down your precious school. Satisfied?"

**Please review - it is appreciated!**


	54. Chapter 54

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Would you please repeat that?" Blake leaned forward, his expression flicking from nervous to almost triumphant. "We do have a tape recorder present."

Fischer shrugged. "Ok. I bribed a student to burn down the school. Now, are you satisfied?"

Arthur looked at him, stunned. "Robert, I can't believe that you would-"

"Arthur. Do you think I care about a high school building?" he snapped.

"No," Arthur said, shaking his head. "You don't. But you do care about the fact that your father can offer to build something bigger and better than J.E. Fox High...and install you as the Principal."

Robert raised an eyebrow. "Can you prove that, Arthur?"

"Yes," Arthur replied, somewhat heatedly. "I can prove it. Because there is a trail of evidence."

"Where is it, then?" Robert replied. He was leaning back in his seat, acting as though he were still on vacation rather than in a police interview. "Where is this trail?"

Arthur looked at him. "Well, it all began when you got me suspended. For throwing ice cream over you. Because you were harrassing a female member of staff."

"It was a private date!" Robert snapped.

"Exactly! So why try and get me suspended? I 'll tell you! To discredit me properly. Because that way you could-" his voice trailed off, infuriated at Robert's unctuous smirk.

"No way I could what?" Robert scowled, glowering at him. "My father already had the plans drawn up, but we knew that you and Cobb would never agree to give in gracefully, so I had to-"

He stopped, lapsing into silence. Browning looked shocked. "Robert, how could you...?"

"I refuse to say anything else," Fischer muttered, leaning back in his seat. "Anything at all."

"OK," Blake said, nodding decisively. "Mr Fischer, you will go into a holding cell for tonight. I'll continue questioning tomorrow."

The young detective stood up, and began to leave. Browning turned to Robert. "I can fix this, I promise-"

"Save it." Fischer shrugged. White faced, the older man began to storm out of the room. Arthur and Cobb got up, and began to leave together.

"Come on." Cobb nodded. "I'll drop you at your place." In silence, the two men began to walk to the parking lot. As Arthur got in, he felt the silence weigh oppressively heavily. Cobb turned the key, starting the ignition.

Arthur leaned his head back against the head rest, his thoughts whirling. A clear path was beginning to be traced through all the seemingly random events, but he knew he had to sit down to think things through. He didn't even notice when Cobb pulled up in front of his building.

"Here you go," Cobb said, with a small half smile. "See you tomorrow."

Arthur looked at him. "Are you allright?"

Cobb sighed. "I'm all right as I can be, considering that I've just found out a member of my own staff was plotting to destroy the school building, get rid of you and me, and -" his voice trailed off. "Let's talk tomorrow, ok?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes." He began to unlock the door, and get out, and suddenly paused. "Cobb."

"What?"

Arthur paused, shaking his head. "Its ok. We'll talk tomorrow."

He began to walk back to his apartment. As he put the key in the door, it swung open. "Hey," he said, smiling tiredly as Ariadne pulled him down into an embrace.

"Hey." She kissed him on the forehead. "Come on."

At her urging, he walked into the kitchen, and he smiled as he saw that she'd prepared dinner. "Have a seat," she said.

"Thank you." He slumped down at the breakfast bar, watching as she began to toss sliced vegetables and meat into a pan. "I do appreciate this."

"What happened?"

Arthur swallowed. "I don't know if I can tell you," he admitted. "Its...complicated."

She nodded. "Oh." She looked at him. "Eames went home." She smiled. "Guess he really wanted pizza."

"I'm sorry." To his shock, he felt tears forming in his eyes. "I'm sorry-"

Ariadne turned off the gas as a sob escaped from the Vice Principal. She walked over, and put her arm around him. "Its ok," she said soothingly. "Its ok."

"No, it isn't." Arthur wiped his eyes. "I started all this."

"How?" her eyes narrowed in shock. "How did you start all this, Arthur?"

"By gatecrashing your date, it gave Fischer an idea-" suddenly, he broke off. "Wait a minute." Getting up, he hurried into the living room, and flicked on his laptop. Carefully, he began to pull up documents.

Swallowing, Ariadne began to continue to cook. Suddenly, she heard a shout "YES!"

"What is it?" she called.

Arthur hurried into the kitchen, his face flushed. "The guy from the district's office...the one who told me I was suspended..." he looked at her, swallowing nervously.

"Yes?" She shook her head, almost impatient. "What is it?"

"He works for Maurice Fischer." Arthur swallowed. "One day a week. In their production department."

"So what are you saying?"

"The date you had with Fischer - it was a set up." Arthur exhaled, slowly. "He wanted me to be there. He wanted to provoke me. And he did - and he used his Dad's employee to swing a suspension."

Ariadne's jaw dropped. "Arthur, he used me - you - all of us!"

"Yes," Arthur said, sadly. "He has." He rubbed his forehead. "To get me and Cobb out of the way so he could get a new school built, and have the staff at Fox discredited enough-"

"So he could be Principal." Ariadne slumped. "Arthur, we have to go to District."

"Oh, yes." Arthur said, nodding. "We do."

"But first," Ariadne said firmly. "We need to eat. You'll waste away otherwise!"

Arthur smiled, grateful that this beautiful young woman was in his life. "Thank you," he breathed, kissing her on the lips. "Thank you."

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	55. Chapter 55

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. Sorry its been so long...writer's block! **

"That was good," Arthur said, appreciatively, leaning back in his seat. Ariadne smiled and began to pick up the plates which held few remnants of their meal. He picked up his wineglass, taking a swallow of the crisp white wine. She began to rinse them under the tap. "My pleasure." Turning, she bit her lip. "Arthur?"

"Yes?" He said, turning back to face her. "What is it?" Putting the glass down, he began to walk over with ease, linking his arms around her waist. "What's up?"

"Going to district." She bit her lip. "What if it comes to nothing? What if they decide to fire you for misconduct?"

Arthur shrugged. "If they do, they do. I'm already thinking that I could take my life in a different direction. But I have to do this. Fischer doesn't care about the students, their education, their progress. All he cares about is making himself seem important. That's what it all boils down to."

"Well, if you're sure," she commented, looking up at Arthur's face. He nodded, using his fingers to gently stroke the hair away from her forehead. "I am."

"Well, I'll stand by you," she said, and with an expression of gratitude and relief crossing his features, he leaned down, and kissed her.

* * *

><p>"You can't do this!" Fischer raged as Blake showed him into a cell, a patient look on his face. "I will -"<p>

"Mr Fischer, you have admitted to arson with intent, and may I remind you that it was also done by coercing a student." Blake folded his arms, looking far more imposing than his relatively modest height would suggest. "You're lucky I haven't sent you to county."

Fischer glowered, and sat himself on the hard bench. Nodding, Blake shut the door, and leaned against the wall.

* * *

><p>"I do wonder-" Ariadne began, slightly uneasily. Arthur looked up, and smiled. "What is it?"<p>

"Approaching District. What are you going to say?"

Arthur looked at her, his expression intense. "Only that we have evidence of a plot to remove myself and Cobb, and to destroy school property." He sank onto the leather couch, and sighed. "I know, its scary. But I have to do this. I really want to clear my name, and also make sure that Cobb remains Principal."

"I know, but-" she bit her lip. "What if they don't believe you?"

Arthur smiled at her, sadly. "Then they don't."

* * *

><p>"Thank you." Blake nodded as the small plastic bag was returned to him, containing Fischer's personal possessions. He checked it: a wallet, a cell phone, a neck chain, and a small signet ring. "These will be returned, I promise."<p>

Fischer shrugged. "You know I'm going to walk away from this."

Blake swallowed, feeling ill at ease in the face of the other man's total arrogance. "As you wish."

As he walked away the cell phone began to vibrate. He opened it, exasperated that Robert had failed to switch it off. Entering the lock up, he pulled it out of its bag, but noticed that the voicemail symbol had flashed up.

Intrigued, he pressed it. As he did so, his eyes widened. Hastily, he placed the phone in an envelope, scribbled "evidence" upon it, and dropped it in the tray. After locking up for the evening, he began to leave.

* * *

><p>"Detective?" Arthur frowned, holding the phone close to his ear. "Yes? What? You're serious?!" He raised his eyebrows and waved at Ariadne. "Thank you!"<p>

She looked up, from her place on the couch. "What is it?"

"Blake." Arthur sat down next to her, thoughts tumbling through his mind. "Very important news." He swallowed. "Very important." He rubbed his face, trying to keep calm. "In fact, it might be the most important piece of evidence we have."

"What is it?"

"A voicemail." Arthur looked slightly embarrassed, as though he should not be revealing information to her. "From the superintendent at District."

Ariadne's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Yes. And John..." Arthur blinked. "He's coming with me, tomorrow."

"To district?"

"Yes."

* * *

><p>Arthur looked up as John approached. He was sitting outside the main Superintendent's office, waiting. Blake nodded. "Arthur."<p>

"Morning." Arthur looked down at his hands. "Thank you."

"Well, don't thank me yet," Blake said, smiling. "But what I found out-"

Suddenly, the door opened, and the Superintendent's PA looked out. "Mr Ogilvie? Mr Blake? The Superintendent will see you now."

Swallowing, Arthur got up and walked in the door, Blake following him.

**All readers appreciated, and I'd love some reviews, thank you!**


	56. Chapter 56

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Right." The District Superintendent looked at Arthur, peering at him through his glasses. "Mr Ogilvie, lets start with the facts."

Arthur stiffened. Sitting up straight in his chair, he watched as a file was opened and the other man began to paw through it. His heart began to pound, slightly. The other man looked at him, and frowned.

"You've had an interesting time of it," was commented. Arthur tightened his lips. "Suspended for an act of violence against a colleague-"

"I threw ice cream at him," Arthur interrupted, already feeling annoyed. "It wasn't as though I threw a punch!"

"Mr Ogilvie!" The Superintendent looked annoyed. "It was enough to bring the school into disrepute! Do you not understand that?! How would you have reacted if one of your students had been caught behaving in this manner?!"

Arthur fell silent, colour starting to stain his cheeks. John coughed, politely. "Sir." His tone was relaxed. "I do think that when the facts are really looked at-"

"The facts are," the Superintendent stated, coldly, as though he resented this intrusion from an outsider, "that a Vice Principal humiliated a colleague in a public place. Would you care to explain why you did so, Mr Ogilvie?"

Arthur glared at the other man. With his short, squat physique, and the glasses perched awkwardly on his nose, he rather reminded him of a toad. He swallowed, and began to speak.

"Because Mr Fischer was harrassing a member of my staff." He spoke carefully, deliberately. "He was making unwanted advances towards her, and when she began to get upset, he continued."

"Did that justify throwing something at him?"

"I wasn't sure what else could be done to stop him." Arthur folded his arms, as though to underline the decision he had made.

"Arthur." The Superintendent looked at him. "You should have just walked away. Maybe that's what you should do from teaching."

"What?!" Arthur's jaw dropped. "What do you mean?"

"Arthur, sometimes we make mistakes in our choice of career." The other man smiled at him, almost kindly. "But some very interesting comments have been made about you and your...conduct at Fox."

Arthur's jaw set. "What comments?"

The Superintendent pulled out a piece of paper, and squinted at it. "Apparently you have been cold and dismissive with students, rude to colleagues, and also excluded two students for no reason." He put the paper down. "Would you care to comment?"

"Its not true," Arthur said, hotly. He shook his head. "Simply not true."

"Excuse me," John cut in, "where is most of this coming from? Because if its not true, under criminal law the person who gave this to you could be under prosecution for slander."

The other man's jaw dropped. "I- well,"...he began to shuffle around in his papers. "Well, this information came from..."

"Yes?"

"Mr Robert Fischer." He shook his head. "He claims that when he temporarily took over your post at the school, there were a barrage of complaints made against you."

"But that's..." Arthur's voice trailed off. Suddenly, Blake spoke.

"Sir. I have here evidence that Robert Fischer has planned everything." Blake pulled out the cellphone. "On it is a voicemail to Fischer from Robert Browning. Stating that he will see Fischer exonerated, and that his father is ready to fund the re-building of Fox, in accordance with their plan. It also states this-"

He handed it to the Superintendent. As he listened, his eyes widened.

"What did it say?" Arthur asked, tersely.

"It said, 'Ogilvie is dead in the water. We can progress with re-building as planned.'" The other man looked shaken, and stood up.

"Mr Ogilvie. On the strength of this evidence, you are exonerated. From all charges."

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	57. Chapter 57

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Fancy a beer?"

Arthur looked at Blake, and smiled. "You're on."

"Good. I know a decent place not to far from here." Stepping carefully on the accelerator, the cop turned his car into the maelstrom of traffic. Arthur sighed, and leaned his head against the car seat. Suddenly, he felt exhausted. As though his energy had finally run out.

"Listen, if you want to nap, go ahead. We could be stuck here for a while." Arthur opened one eye, and noticed John grinning at him. He smiled back in response.

"Sorry," he apologised. "Just...tired." He shook his head. "As though-"

"A weight's been lifted?" Blake asked, gently. Arthur swallowed. "Could say that."

"Well, don't blame you." The detective steered the car through he intersection, cursing the heavy flow of traffic. "The school burning down, prospect of a death, Fischer...its a lot to contend with."

"Yes. And now I have to wonder what's going to happen next."

"Well, you're cleared of all charges, surely you can go back to work?"

"I don't know." Arthur frowned as the car purred back onto the highway. He felt a pang. "It can't be like it was before."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, some parents might not be happy. They might think I shouldn't be in the job." He looked over. Blake was shaking his head, vigorously.

"Arthur. From everything I've learned, you were an outstanding teacher."

"That's just it. I wasn't a teacher - I was the VP." Arthur frowned. "Sitting in my office, pushing bits of paper, dealing with discipline problems, staffing issues, data...not actually teaching. Not actually being out there, in the classroom, interacting, dealing with the kids." He bit his lip. "That's what I enjoyed."

"So why become a Vice Principal?" Blake frowned.

"Well, it was a promotion," Arthur admitted. "I thought that if I were to get married, being a VP would mean-"

"More money, nice house, security?"

"Yes," Arthur admitted. "Instead it meant elevated stress levels, being seen as enemy number one - and that was just by the staff."

John laughed, and Arthur began to relax. "Listen, we're nearly here."

They pulled the car into the lot, and John switched off the engine. As they began to walk to the bar, Arthur tried to breathe. His career was no longer in limbo. He was exonerated. He was free. As they entered, he looked round. It was a slightly upscale place, and he had a hunch he wouldn't notice anyone he knew.

As they settled at the bar, Arthur swallowed. John looked at him. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I-" Arthur paused. The thought of what he wanted to do was looming large, but he knew it would be difficult. "I want to get back into the classroom, properly." He lifted the green bottle that had been placed in front of him. "I don't think I can handle the stress of being a VP."

John nodded. "If you think that's where your needed-"

"I do." Arthur ran his thumb over the bottle top. "Its just...I'm so disconnected, sitting up there in my office. I bark out orders but I never really see what's going on."

"So what are you going to do?" John took a swallow of beer.

"Talk to Cobb, I guess," Arthur mused. He looked at the other man. "Maybe ask if I can change positions."

"Good luck."

Arthur nodded. "I'll need it."

* * *

><p>"Sorry," Arthur apologised. He didn't arrive back until nearly ten pm - frowning, he entered the living room of his apartment, and blinked. To his surprise, Ariadne was seated on the couch, and also in the room, were Mal and Cobb.<p>

"Arthur!" Cobb got up, the tension melting to relief. "Arthur, we wondered where you were!"

"Blake and I went out for beer," Arthur mumbled, suddenly feeling guilty. He should have guessed that the others would want to know what happened. "I-"

"Arthur, I know," Cobb said, smiling broadly. "Congratulations!"

Arthur blinked. "They called you?"

"Yes." Cobb's face took on a more serious expression. "And you're exonerated. Which means I need to ask you..."

Arthur blinked. Ariadne walked up, and slipped her arm through his. "What is it?"

"Arthur, Fox is going to be completely re-built," Cobb said, seriously. "But it will need a new principal. Someone who can actually do the job, is actually there for the students."

Arthur swallowed, narrowing his eyes. "Dom..."

"Arthur, I want you to be principal of the new Fox, and Mal will be vice." Cobb's voice shook slightly. "I've handled this badly - too badly. I just want to be an Assistant Principal, and focus on teaching psychology."

Arthur's face drained of colour. "But-"

"But what?" Cobb asked, puzzled.

"I just wanted to teach music," Arthur admitted.

There was a stunned silence. Then finally, Mal spoke.

"Well," she said, her crisp accent music itself, "there's a thing."

**Thank you for reading, please review!**


	58. Chapter 58

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Arthur!" Exasperated, Cobb stood in front of the younger man, shaking his head. "What do you mean, you just want to teach music?!"

"Well, what I say." Arthur folded his arms, feeling defensive and ill at ease. "I just want to teach. I've had enough of giving orders...and its not as though people want to listen to me, anyway!"

"You're being ridiculous!" Cobb countered, as though hoping to break the younger man's will. "Fischer's going to jail, Eames can't handle responsibility-"

"Thanks," Eames chipped in, scowling.

"-And I just feel - I just feel that this happened on my watch, and I was not watching." Cobb rubbed his forehead. "How can I take this proposal to district when the one person I thought I could rely on does-"

"Let's not get personal!" Arthur snapped. "Yes, you've relied on me for years - relied on me to do your dirty work whilst you sat in your office, pretending to be everyone's friend!"

"That's not true!" Cobb snapped back. His face was flushed, and he glared at Arthur. "I have never asked you to do my dirty work-"

"Bull!" Arthur practically snarled. His voice was rising, and so was his temper. "When students needed disciplining over dress code, who dealt with it? When there were rumours of students trying to hack into the system, who dealt with it? Every time there has been a problem, I've dealt with it! I am tired of being your stooge! I am tired of taking your orders! You are not Batman, and I am not Robin!"

"No." Eames deadpanned. "More he's Superman and you're General Zod!"

Arthur glared at Eames, furious. "Oh, and how about the times I've had to do your job for you?! Dealing with parents, dealing with-"

"That's enough!" Mal's voice was sharp, and sliced through the tense, almost suffocating atmosphere. "Arthur, please! You need to calm down!"

Arthur swallowed, taking a ragged breath. Cobb's face was scarlet, and Eames was subdued. Arthur ran his fingers through his hair, and swallowed. "Cobb-"

"Leave it." Turning, the older man strode out of the room. Arthur reached for his jacket. "I'd better go." Before anyone could stop him, he was walking out of the door.

* * *

><p>"You actually said that?"<p>

Arthur nodded, his facial expression one off bemusement, as though he could not comprehend his own actions. "Yes." Picking up his spoon, he licked the foam off it. "I did."

Ariadne blinked. Arthur had rung her, insisting that they meet. As the Golden Bean was open until late, she'd suggested it. Arthur had arrived before her, and had clearly downed a cappuccino before she'd even arrived. The tension in his face and voice had not dissipated a jot. He took another sip of coffee. "God."

Ariadne pushed her plate towards him. "Have a muffin."

Arthur looked at it, and smiled. "The way to my heart."

"Absolutely!" The both laughed, and a feeling of peace began to wash over Arthur. He put his coffee cup down. "I'm sorry. Its just...Cobb clearly wants me to do as he tells me, and I'm not prepared to live that way anymore."

"So..." She swallowed. "Shal we go?"

"Why not." Getting up, Arthur was determined to banish thoughts of Cobb, work, and students from his mind. He just wanted to enjoy being here with her. As his hand slipped into hers, they began to leave the Golden Bean.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well, I could look for another job." He sighed. "But then, everyone would want to know why I left...and there is all this mess with Fischer..."

"Not your fault."

"We could always move, look abroad." Arthur sighed. "I could teach in London. Its an interesting city."

Ariadne raised her eyebrows. "They all wear uniforms there." She swallowed. "Not sure I could handle that."

"Well." Arthur shrugged. "Then I'm not sure. But I do know one thing..." he reached over, and took her hand. "I want to be with you."

They began to leave. As they did so, Arthur frowned. Someone was standing outside the Golden Bean. "Arthur!"

Turning, Arthur felt his face freeze. "Dom..."

"Please." Cobb's voice was firm. "I guessed you'd be here if you weren't at home. We need to talk."

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	59. Chapter 59

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur sighed, and took a sip of coffee. "Dom."

"Arthur, please." Cobb looked mildly irritated. "I really need to talk to you."

"All right."

"Do you want me to leave?" Ariadne asked, politely. She flicked her eyes from Arthur to Cobb, and Cobb nodded, slowly. "Please."

Ariadne grabbed her purse, and left. Annoyed, Arthur banged his fist down on the table. "What did you do that for?"

"I'm sorry, but I needed to speak to you, and in confidence." Cobb swallowed. "Listen, Arthur. I don't normally go all out for emotion, but I need you. I need you to agree to be my Vice Principal."

Arthur sighed. "Cobb. Please."

"Arthur." Cobb leaned back. "I know what happened to you - it was wrong. But, listen - we're going to have new buildings, a new start. Fischer is never coming back. I really would like to have you on board for this."

Arthur bit his lip. "I don't-"

"Arthur!" Cobb's voice was terse. "Please!"

"Look, Dom, its not that simple." Arthur's eyes flashed. "You need me more than I need you. Did it ever occur to you I'm tired of being your sidekick?"

Cobb's jaw dropped. He blinked, shifting mental gears, then got up. "I'm going to get an espresso," he said, stiffly. "How about yourself?"

Arthur saw he had no choice. "Cappuccino, please. Double shot."

Cobb nodded and walked to the counter.

* * *

><p>Ariadne sighed as she flagged down a bus, and hopped on. She doubted she would see Arthur again that night - she suspected that he and Cobb would argue over coffee and then end the conversation more amicably in a bar.<p>

She slumped into her seat. The prospect of a brand new High School was exciting - but the prospect of leaving, or perhaps starting something with Arthur was more so. She rubbed her forehead. She wanted to stay in education, but was no longer sure that she was in the right place.

She leaned back against the seat. Closing her eyes, she began to drift off.

* * *

><p>"I don't understand what the problem is."<p>

Arthur scowled. The thought that Cobb was being deliberately obtuse was pleasanter than the thought he was stupid. He decided to go for the former. "You do know." He picked up the sugar shaker, and began to deposit into the cappuccino cup. "I'm the one who has to deal with everything. The discipline issues, fights, everything. You glide around in your fancy office, and give orders. I like being in the classroom. I like dealing with the students. When I took over Tom's classes, they hated me. They saw me as this uptight stiff who only liked shouting at them." He shook his head. "And I don't want to go back to that."

"I see," Cobb said, slowly.

"I want to teach. Its what I trained to do. Not crunching data all day."

"I see."

"Yes, you do," Arthur muttered.

"So," Cobb said, picking up his espresso, "let's compromise."

"Really?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "How?"

* * *

><p>"Blake? You got a minute?"<p>

John sighed, and got up. He was tired, and his head was starting to ache. Pulling 18 hour days was not a good thing, he decided grimly. Pushing the chair underneath the desk, he walked towards his Lieutenant's office.

"What is it?"

"I've got some bad news. Sit down."

* * *

><p>"Co-Vice Principals? With you?"<p>

"No. With Eames."

"Cobb!"

"Think about it. He's been there a couple of years, he could do with more responsibility-"

"And yet again he's the good guy and I'm the bad one!" Arthur shook his head, feeling agitated. "No, Dom, this is not a compromise. Its not how I see things going."

"OK." Cobb exhaled, slowly. "So- how about you and I, co-Principals?"

Arthur blinked. "You really think that's possible?"

"The school is expanding." Cobb looked down into his espresso cup. "I think we need two people, sharing responsibility. We work well together, we can both run the school, and also teach. Mal could be Vice-Principal. What do you think?"

"I-" Arthur opened his mouth, only for his cell phone to screech into life. He sighed and pulled it out. "Yes?"

"Arthur? Blake."

Arthur blinked. "John? What is it?"

"Its not good. Please listen to me."

* * *

><p>Ariadne got off the bus, and began to walk towards her small apartment block. She might as well enjoy having the evening to herself, she felt. Reaching inside her bag, she began to pull out her key, letting them jangle in her hand.<p>

Suddenly, she turned. She thought she heard something, footsteps. Shaking her head, she focused on putting the key into the lock. As she began to turn it, she felt a hand suddenly grab her elbow. Ariadne opened her mouth, but suddenly, she was plunged into darkness.

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	60. Chapter 60

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"You're not serious?" Arthur stared at Blake in shock, his face whitening. "He's been released?"

"His godfather plea bargained." Blake shook his head. "I'm sorry Arthur. Tried to get it to stick, I thought we had all the evidence needed, but-" He looked slightly shaky.

"Have a seat," Arthur instructed, and immediately walked to the liquor cabinet. Blake had driven over as soon as he had finished speaking to Arthur on the phone, and the Vice Principal felt the other man was in medicinal need of a scotch. Blake accepted the glass gratefully and sank into a chair.

"So what's going to happen now?"

"Cobb can exercise his powers as Principal and dismiss him for conspiracy to criminal damage." Blake took a sip of the dark amber liquid. "But there's no guarantee he won't pop up in education again."

Arthur sank into the opposite seat. "I can only hope."

"Yes."

Arthur sighed, and closed his eyes. This nightmare would be over soon, he hoped. Cobb would dismiss Fischer, they could focus on building their brand new school -

"I should get going."

Arthur blinked. John was looking at him. "Its late."

Arthur checked his watch. It was after 11. "Oh, of course- although you can crash on the couch."

John shook his head. "Thanks, but I need to get home. I'm on duty at 6am tomorrow." He placed his glass on the coffee table, and stood up. "I'll keep you posted - off the record, Ok?"

Arthur shook hands with him, profoundly grateful for the young detective's willingness to stick with the case. "Thank you."

"No problem." John pulled on his jacket, and zipped it up. "Night!"

As John left, Arthur's mind floated to Ariadne. He bit his lip. He could call her, but she would most likely be in bed. He sighed, and headed to the main bedroom. All he wanted, right now, he decided, was a long hot shower. And the rest of the scotch.

* * *

><p>Ariadne blinked. She was in a room - a room she did not recognise. It was a lounge.<p>

Shuddering, she got up, and began to regret it immediately. Her head was starting to swim - a side effect of the drug that had been used to sedate her. Swallowing, she leaned against a wall, wondering where she was.

She shook her head. There were windows, and a door - presumably they meant to keep her here for a while, she surmised, so why give her means to escape? Hesitantly, she walked over to the door, and pushed down the handle.

Locked.

She shook her head. No surprise. Feeling slightly weak, she walked to the bed that was lying pushed against a wall, and climbed onto it. Sleep. Sleep was what she needed.

* * *

><p>Arthur, freshly showered, wearing pyjamas, was on his way to bed. Going back into the lounge, he realised he'd left his cell phone in his suit pocket. Sighing, he pulled it out, and switched it off. Going into the bedroom, he closed the door firmly behind him.<p>

* * *

><p>"So, meeting this morning?" Mal asked, sleepily.<p>

Cobb nodded, and squinted at the bedside digital clock - it was 7.30am. "Yes." He yawned, and stretched. "Try and get Arthur, Ariadne, Eames, Yusuf..."

Mal tickled him, playfully. "Up, Dominic!"

"Hey!" Smiling, he picked up the pillow and playfully slapped her with it. Laughing, the two collapsed back on to bed, Mal leaning over for a kiss. Suddenly, the phone rang.

Sighing, Cobb reached over and grabbed the receiver. "Hello?"

* * *

><p>Arthur rolled over in bed, luxuriating. Not having to get up at 6am was something to be enjoyed, albeit guiltlily, at present.<p>

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door. Frowning, he turned his head to look at the clock. Twenty minutes to nine. He pushed the covers back, and began to walk to the door. Peering through the spyhole, he spotted Cobb, and began to unlock the door.

"Cobb, I-"

"Ariadne's been taken. Get dressed. Now!"

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	61. Chapter 61

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Cobb blinked. "Arthur. Calm down. What did you just say?"

"I just had a phone call." Arthur's voice, already compressed due to the use of the cell phone, sounded tighter than usual. "Robert."

"What?" Cobb blinked. "What happened?"

"He told me-" Arthur swallowed -"that he has Ariadne with him. He is not going to tell us where she is, and that this is-"

"Arthur, its a stitch up." Cobb felt slightly irritated. "She's probably at her apartment. Robert is just trying to mess with your head, and-"

"Blake told me that he was released. He's bitter, he's angry."

"He's also a criminal - they will get more evidence." Cobb felt exasperated. "Seriously, Arthur, calm down. This is ridiculous."

"Its not!" Arthur surprised himself with the loudness of his voice. "Its true! Why can't you accept what I'm saying?!"

"Arthur-"

"I'm calling Blake," Arthur snapped, and hung up.

Cobb, bewildered, stared at the dead phone.

* * *

><p>Ariadne woke up, and shifted. The bed was unfamiliar, and so was the room. Eventually, her mind began to clear, and she started to remember. She had been grabbed outside her apartment, and suddenly, the world had gone dark. Shivering, she began to get up, and reached for the door. She had slept in her clothes, and frowning, looked down at her appearance. Running her fingers through her hair, she decided that she had to get out. Fischer was guilty of arson and leaning on a student - he had now added this to his repertoire. She wasn't going to let him get away with it.<p>

Swallowing, she put her hand on the door handle, and pushed. To her astonishment, it opened. Pushing the door further, she realised that the bedroom opened onto a kitchen. She took a step.

Then her heart started to pound. She could hear noise. A loud, rumbling noise. Swallowing, she began to look round, careful not to make any extra sound herself.

A man was slumped in a chair, snoring. He was large, heavy set - but his stance and the deepness of his breathing indicated he was going to be asleep for a while. Ariadne blinked.

She had no idea where she was, but she knew she had to get out. Carefully, she walked across, to the door. Robert was obviously confident his hired goon could keep her in there, which she felt underscored the young man's arrogance. Deftly, she used her fingers to try and unlock the door.

* * *

><p>"The guy's insane." Blake had not been at the station - the nervous young administrator who had answered the phone had informed Arthur that it was his day off duty. Arthur, not to be deterred, had immediately driven over to Blake's bachelor apartment. The young detective had still been in bed when Arthur had appeared, his sleepiness quickly becoming alarm when it transpired what had happened.<p>

"This guy..." Blake muttered. "What did he say to you?"

"That he had her in a safe place, and that he hoped Cobb and I would be amenable to his returning to the school," Arthur said, his face distraught. "But- what if-"

"He won't hurt her," Blake said, shaking his head. "I think he's smarter than that. His lawyer got him off on a technicality. This is him trying to pressure you and Cobb into giving him what he wants."

"Can we arrest him? He's admitted what he's done!"

Blake bit his lip. "The fact he's being so brazen indicates he wants to be caught - so he can 'negotiate'." He nodded. "Let's find him."

* * *

><p>Carefully, she turned the lock. Putting her hand on the door handle, she tried to turn it.<p>

Nothing.

Blinking in shock, she tried to pull the door, and found it locked. Shocked, she realised that it was bolted from the outside. Suddenly, it swung open.

"Ariadne," Robert said, pleasantly. "Where do you think you're going?"

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	62. Chapter 62

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me.**

"Robert!" Ariadne forced her lips into a smile. "Well, this is a surprise!"

The older man looked slightly confused, but nodded. "It shouldn't be a surprise. I brought you here." He gestured to the door. "And, no, you're not getting out."

Ariadne swallowed. She knew she had to remain calm, and not antagonise him - but that could be difficult. He was eyeing her, almost warily. She took a step forward, and cleared her throat. "So, why have you brought me here?"

Robert turned. "Not important. Really."

"Come on, Robert." Ariadne's voice was calm, but she was in no mood to play games with him. "You brought me here, there must be a reason."

"Oh, there is." He nodded. "I need your boyfriend to realise that I am not going to simply walk away. That job - Vice Principal - is and should be mine."

"Why is that?" Ariadne pressed.

"Because Arthur-" he smiled, smugly - "is a criminal. That's why."

Her jaw dropped "What?" She shook her head. "Robert, you've tried to pin all sorts of crazy things on Arthur. Like the time you claimed that he was harrassing me, and when you got him suspended for throwing ice cream at you- because you were harrassing me!"

"And that's why you're here, I need to tell you about Arthur, I need to-"

Suddenly, he stopped. Ariadne, using all the strength she had, had slapped him, hard. He looked at her stunned.

"You're going to stop lying," she said, coldly. "And you're going to let me leave. Now!"

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," Robert said, and there was an edge of anger in his otherwise calm voice. "There are things about Arthur that you really don't want to know about."

"Really?" She challenged. "I think you've exhausted the possiblities of things you can accuse him of. You're a liar. You paid a kid to burn down our school. You are in no position to tell me that Arthur is guilty of anything!"

"Oh, he's guilty of a lot of things!" Robert shouted. "Like the time he slept with a student!"

Ariadne looked at Robert, and shook her head. "You're pathetic. And a liar." She walked to the door, and putting her hand on it, began to turn and try and twist it.

"Why don't you believe me?" Robert wheedled. "I know he did! She was a senior, and he couldn't keep his hands to himself! Why do you think he transferred to Fox? It was because his old school kicked him out! He's a liar! A liar, and a predator! And its about time you realised that, Ariadne!"

"No," she said, calmly, shaking her head. "I know you're lying. In fact,

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	63. Chapter 63

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me.**

"This is not happening," Arthur muttered. As he stood outside Blake's door, he rubbed his face. Why had he wanted to work in education? For the good of the students, he reminded himself, grimly. After a few seconds, the detective ran out, his keys jangling in his hand, his face tense. Almost ignoring Arthur, they began to head for the elevator.

"Why is he doing this?" Arthur muttered, as they entered Blake's car. The other man looked at him. "Who?"

"Fischer?"

Blake gave a wry grin. "Not too sure. Possibly insanity. I'll let Cobb decide that - he is a psychologist, right?"

Arthur couldn't suppress a grin. "Indeed he is. Mostly into dreams. He likes to try and analyse mine."

Blake burst out laughing, despite the tension. "Whoa! He'll have to analyse mine. They mostly feature Scarlett Johansson." He pushed the car into gear, and began to drive. Arthur, smiling, shook his head.

"I wonder what Fisher dreams of," Blake mused.

"Complete and total destruction of everyone around him, probably." Arthur shrugged. "The guy is-" He swallowed. "Where are we-?"

Blake looked at him, then in the rearview mirror. "His apartment. Its obvious he wants us to go to him."

"What if she's not there?" Arthur demanded.

Blake shook his head, his features set. "She will be. Trust me."

* * *

><p>"Arthur did not do those things." Ariadne shook her head, and looked at Fischer. His face, she noticed, was paler and more gaunt than in previous meetings. She also noticed his china blue eyes were slightly dazed - as though he had been struck. Or, she thought with a creeping sense of unease, insane.<p>

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because...I know him." She realised as soon as the words had left her mouth they sounded pathetic. "Arthur is not that type of man."

She cringed. Fischer was shaking his head, his expression settling into cold, hard lines. She began to get to her feet. "You have no evidence. He would not sleep with a student. Its not-"

"Arthur would!" Fischer yelled. "He'd do anything he could to-"

"To what?" Ariadne demanded, her eyes flashing. "What would he do?"

"To destroy the school," Fischer said, numbly. "To destroy me. He got that job...the job I should have had..."

Ariadne looked at him, her mouth slightly agape. "So you're telling me that you wanted the job of Vice Principal? But you never- you mean you set all this in motion so you could-"

Robert, his eyes brimming, nodded. "Yes," he said, hoarsely. He began to sit down, his face turning bone white. "I did."

"Why?" Ariadne pressed. "It seems such a- why not look for another job?"

Fischer shook his head. "I know what you all think of me." His voice was barely a whisper. "I know that Cobb would never write me a reference. Not a decent one." He drew in a shuddering breath. "It seemed so much easier to-"

Suddenly, there was a banging on the door. "Fischer!" Blake shouted. "Open the door!"

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